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HARRY  SINCLAIR  DRAG< 
JOSEPH  NOEL 


[WHISPERING  SAGE 


Whispering  Sage 


By  HARRY  SINCLAIR  DRAGO 
and  JOSEPH  NOEL 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 

Published  by  arrangement  with  The   Century    Company 
Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Copyright,  1922,  by 
THE  MtmsiY  Co. 


Printed  in  TJ.  S.  A. 


WHISPERING  SAGE 


WHISPERING  SAGE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  scorching  rays  of  the  noonday  sun  beat  down 
upon  the  Nevada  desert.  For  mile  on  mile  the 
alkali  flats  stretched  away  until  the  eye  wearied  of 
distance. 

Across  the  waste  two  tiny  specks  moved.  Save  for 
them  all  life  seemed,  dead.  Long  before  sunrise  they 
had  crossed  the  mighty  range  to  the  north,  now 
dwarfed  by  distance  into  little,  fantastic  hills  of  pur- 
ple cotton.  Both  horses  and  men  were  gray  with 
dust.  The  horses  snorted  from  time  to  time,  to  blow 
the  biting  alkali  from  their  nostrils.  The  men's 
throats  were  bricky  dry,  too;  and  yet  the  taller  of 
the  two  hummed  a  song.  Ahead  of  them  green  trees 
beckoned.  It  was  the  fringe  of  stunted  cedars  that 
had  been  their  sign-post  all  morning  long.  They 
expected  to  find  water  and  grass  in  the  Timbered 
Buttes.  Beyond  that,  they  had  no  plans. 

Abruptly  they  began  climbing  the  bench  lands. 
Their  circle  of  vision  widened.  They  topped  the  crest, 
and  the  country  of  the  Little  Washoe  burst  upon 
them.  Paradise  Valley  spread  out  in  a  gigantic  horse- 
shoe. A  range,  the  Santa  Rosas,  banked  three  sides 

3 

M69670 


4  WHISPERING  SAGE 

of  it,  the  never-failing  willows  marking  where  Rebel 
Creek  came  tumbling  out  of  the  hills  at  the  apex 
of  the  horseshoe,  and  being  deftly  turned,  swung  off 
to  the  right,  hugging  the  base  of  the  hills  until  it 
met  the  river  that  crossed  the  valley  from  one  end 
of  the  horseshoe  to  the  other. 

Tired  and  thirsty  as  he  was,  the  tall  man  stopped 
for  a  brief  second  to  appraise  that  wonderful  valley. 

"Aia't  that  a  sweet  country,  Shorty?"  he  mur- 
mured to  the  short,  bandy-legged  man,  hard  of  face 
and  slow  of  speech,  who  rode  beside  him. 

Shorty's  answer  was  a  grunt.  He  glanced  with  a 
trace  of  annoyance  at  the  suave,  whimsical  Buck; 
and  yet  he  pulled  his  horse  to  a  halt.  It  was  sig- 
nificant. In  this,  as  in  all  things,  he  followed  the 
other.  Bodine  had  won  from  him  such  allegiance 
as  Shorty  had  little  expected  to  give  to  any  man. 

Early  yesterday  morning,  over  the  Oregon  line  at 
Denio,  and  again  last  night  at  the  old  Ashdown  mine 
they  had  feasted.  Bodine  had  talked  much  of  Oregon 
and  little  of  Idaho  or  Wyoming;  but  if  the  truth 
were  told,  he  had  seen  almost  nothing  of  Oregon  and 
a  great  deal  of  Idaho  and  Wyoming  in  the  past  year. 
They  had  been  harried  sore  in  their  old  haunts. 
They  were  in  a  new  country.  Buck  felt  that  he 
could  afford  to  smile. 

"Yes,  sir/'  he  exclaimed.  "This  country  suits 
me.  No  railroads,  no  telegraph,  no  talk ;  just  a  dinky 
local  telephone  line.  We  11  stay  here  and  'Let  the 
rest  of  the  world  go  by.'  '  He  hummed  the  words 
of  that  popular  song  of  the  day. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  5 

The  grass  was  good  in  the  buttes.  They  camped 
there.  Life  grew  rosy  again.  But  even  such  security 
and  ease  as  was  theirs  began  to  pall.  For  two  nights 
they  had  watched  the  twinkling  lights  which  marked 
the  little  town  of  Paradise.  The  lure  was  insistent, 
and  on  the  third  evening  they  rode  into  the  town 
and  to  Benavides's  bar. 

Benavides  was  a  Basque,  and  most  of  his  customers 
were  of  the  same  blood.  Bodine  and  Shorty  found 
the  place  filled;  freighters,  sheep-men,  the  Basque 
genie,  and  a  sprinkling  of  Double  A  boys  comprised 
the  crowd. 

Buck  and  Shorty  edged  to  the  bar  and  waited.  In 
all  that  room  no  man  knew  them!  Their  pleasure 
in  the  evening  grew  accordingly.  But  still  they 
waited,  and  now  to  their  displeasure.  One-eyed 
Manuel,  the  Mexican  bartender,  was  busy  elsewhere. 
The  delay  irked  Bodine.  Catching  the  butt  of  his 
glowing  cigarette  between  thumb  and  forefinger,  he 
shot  it  straight  as  a  bullet  into  Manuel's  face.  The 
red-hot  coal  burned  into  the  poor  wretch 's  cheek  with 
the  sting  of  a  knife  slash.  The  Mexican  slapped  it 
to  the  floor.  Murder  flared  in  his  heart,  but  some- 
thing metallic  in  Buck's  eyes  made  him  pause. 

"Move,  you  greaser,  or  I  '11  bring  you  to  life  in 
a  hurry,"  Bodine  warned. 

Manuel's  hand  trembled  as  he  set  out  the  glasses  for 
the  two  strangers.  He  smiled  evilly.  Things  were 
too  even  now.  "Wait;  time  would  bring  an  opportu- 
nity when  the  odds  would  be  all  his  way,  so  caution 
counseled  him. 


6  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  incident  had  passed  quite  unnoticed  by  the 
crowd.  Wash  Taylor,  a  ragged  old  mule-skinner,  had 
been  one  of  the  very  few  to  observe  it.  He  laughed 
immoderately.  Wash  was  an  unmoral  old  person, 
all  life  being  raw  to  him.  When  Buck  bade  him 
drink,  he  acquiesced  with  alacrity. 

Shorty  had  to  grin  to  himself  at  the  adroitness 
with  which  Bodine  drew  from  the  old  skinner  the 
complete  history  of  the  valley. 

"I  'm  sort  of  lookin'  round  for  a  place,"  Buck  was 
saying.  "If  I  could  find  a  small  ranch  hereabouts 
at  the  right  price,  I  might  be  interested." 

This  was  news  to  Shorty.  He  half  suspected  that 
Buck  was  merely  talking,  but  he  spoke  with  such 
conviction  that  the  bandy-legged  one  eyed  him  curi- 
ously. 

"You  won't  find  no  place  for  sale  round  here;  that 
is,  with  water  on  it.  And  water  's  gold  in  this  coun- 
try." 

"It's  gold,  and  precious  stones,  and  the  whole  damn 
works,"  Buck  asserted.  " Without  it  you  and  your 
stock  have  only  got  a  big  thirst." 

"Fact  is,  water  or  no  water,  the  only  place  for 
sale  in  this  hull  valley  is  the  old  Webster  ranch. 
No  water  there  at  all  now.  Used  to  be  plenty  in  the 
old  days." 

Wash  drained  his  glass. 

"Used  to  be  some  place  then.  Hank  owned  due 
west  from  where  Rebel  Creek  forked  into  the  Webster. 
Maybe  you've  seen  those  dead  willows  stringin'  across 
the  valley  1  They  follow  the  dry  wash  that  used  to  be 


WHISPERING  SAGE  7 

"Webster  Creek.  Wa'n't  another  ranch  below  him 
clear  to  the  river.  He  had  all  the  water.  A  cloud- 
burst changed  that  in  one  night.  Water  came  rushin' 
down  carryin'  ever  'thin '  before  it.  When  it  was 
all  over,  Hank  found  the  mouth  of  the  Webster 
damned  up  like  a  mason  had  done  the  job.  Rebel 
Creek  has  been  some  stream  ever  since.  That  was  a 
long  time  ago." 

Wash  paused  to  ponder  over  that  miracle. 

"Yep,"  he  went  on,  " there  was  the  hull  valley 
changed  overnight.  Hank  moaned  and  cursed. 
Nothin'  doin'!  The  courts  could  n't  go  back  on  old 
Mother  Nature.  Say,"  he  queried,  " ain't  the  lawyers 
got  sumthin'  to  cover  a  trick  like  that?  The  'accom- 
plished fact'?  Well,  it  was  that,  all  right.  That 
there  'accomplished  fact'  made  Paradise  Valley. 
Look  at  those  ranches  bedded  down  along  the  Rebel 
clear  to  the  Washoe.  Pretty  near  all  Basques  down 
there.  I  ain't  so  fond  of  them;  but  they  know  how 
to  work.  I  guess  nature  knew  her  business.  She 
most  generally  does." 

"What  happened  to  Hank?"  Buck  demanded. 

"Oh,  Hank  gave  up  the  ship.  He  's  runnin'  a 
store  down  in  Golconda,  accordin'  to  last  reports. 
He  tried  to  sell  his  place;  but  shucks,  you  couldn't 
give  that  ranch  away." 

By  the  time  they  left,  the  sleek  Bodine,  with  his 
piercing  black  eyes  and  jaunty  manner,  could  have 
retailed  the  past  history  of  the  valley.  Old  man 
Webster's  passing  particularly  interested  Buck.  For 
a  day  it  worried  and  then  obsessed  him. 


8  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Why  did  lie  let  go  without  a  fight T"  he  repeatedly 
asked  the  puzzled  Shorty.  "It  don't  sound  right  to 
me.  Somebody  wanted  to  get  him  out  of  the  way; 
some  friend!  There  ain't  no  big  cattle  outfit  here 
except  the  Double  A.  Maybe  they  wanted  to  grab 
it;  but  ten  years  is  a  long  time  to  wait.  Nobody 
seems  to  have  made  a  move  in  all  that  time.  I 
tell  you  this  thing  just  gets  my  nanny. " 

"Don't  make  no  difference  to  us,"  Shorty  grum- 
bled. "We  got  other  things  to  worry  about. " 

"Don't  make  no  difference?"  Buck  exclaimed. 
"Why  don't  it?  I  smell  easy  money  here." 

Shorty  and  he  came  down  from  the  hills  and  camped 
at  the  deserted  ranch.  The  obsession  grew  on  Bodine. 
Shorty,  in  his  dumb  way,  tried  to  follow  the  work- 
ings of  Bodine 's  nimble  mind.  On  the  morning  of 
the  second  day  Buck  came  to  a  decision.  He  called 
Shorty  to  his  side. 

"I  'm  going  into  Winnemucca  and  have  a  look  at 
the  county  records.  If  old  Webster  made  a  filing 
on  his  water  rights,  I  'm  going  to  buy  him  out. 
You  wait  here;  I  may  be  back  to-morrow.  If  I  go 
to  Golconda  to  see  Webster,  I  may  be  gone  a  week. 
You  wait  a  week.  If  I  don't  come  back  by  then, 
you  find  Gloomy  and  go  over  into  the  Malheur  Lake 
country. ' ' 

The  filing  had  been  made.  The  State  of  Nevada 
guaranteed  to  Henry  Webster  the  right  to  use  a 
minimum  of  fourteen  miner's  inches  of  water  from 
Webster  Creek. 

Bodine 's  enthusiasm  for  the  deal  in  hand  soared. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  9 

Even  the  State  was  on  record  that  there  were  water 
rights  along  Webster  Creek ! 

Five  days  later  Bodine  returned.  Behind  him 
lumbered  a  freighter,  bringing  the  tools  and  neces- 
saries of  life.  Shorty  shook  his  head.  No  need  to 
ask;  Bodine  had  done  as  he  had  said  he  would. 

Shorty  found  his  tongue  then,  and  what  he  said 
was  to  the  point.  He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his 
forehead. 

"This  is  the  cuckoo,"  he  stated.  "You'll  be 
gettin'  married  next." 

"You  watch  my  smoke,"  Bodine  answered  know- 
ingly. "I  '11  grow  dollars  on  this  little  old  ranch; 
before  I  'm  through  you  '11  see  that  creek  runnin* 
full  of  water.  We  're  goin'  to  be  so  respectable  it  11 
hurt.  But  you  sit  tight  and  keep  still.  You  're  my 
hired  man  from  now  on.  Somebody  's  goin'  to  wake 
up  one  of  these  mornin's  to  find  us  sittin'  right  on 
his  tail." 


CHAPTER  II 

IN  a  thinly  settled  country,  where  every  man's 
movements  are  marked,  news  spreads  quickly. 
People  talked  and  wondered  about  Bodine.  Who  was 
he,  and  what  foolish  ambition  led  him  to  try  his  luck 
on  such  a  hopeless  place? 

Of  all  those  who  watched  and  wondered  no  one  was 
more  interested  than  Dick  Acklin,  the  Big  Boss  of  the 
Double  A.  He  had  been  quite  content  to  see  old 
man  Webster  go.  For  ten  years  the  Double  A  had 
taken  both  its  own  and  his  share  of  water  from  Rebel 
Creek.  Even  so,  it  did  not  suffice.  Acklin 's  crying 
need  was  more  water.  Many  times  he  had  been  in- 
clined to  buy  in  the  Webster  place,  but  it  was  so 
worthless  that  he  had  never  taken  it  seriously. 
Bodine 's  buying  it  awakened  old  misgivings.  Acklin 
knew  that  the  right  man  could  make  him  a  lot  of 
trouble.  Webster's  water  rights  might  still  be  made 
the  basis  of  a  long,  expensive  lawsuit. 

He  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could;  and  then,  instead 
of  bearding  Bodine,  he  rode  to  the  Rancho  Buena 
Vista  to  see  the  Senor  Arrascada.  The  old  Basque 
met  him  as  a  friend.  Jose  was  the  most  powerful  of 
the  Basque  genie.  The  patriarchal  old  man  abated 
not  one  whit  of  his  dignity  in  the  presence  of  his 
powerful  neighbor.  Acklin,  indeed,  was  a  frequent 
visitor.  The  Rancho  Buena  Yista  did  honor  in  his 

10 


WHISPERING  SAGE  11 

behalf.  And,  yet,  more  often,  the  feudal  lord  came 
to  do  honor  to  the  Sefiorita  Mercedes,  its  beautiful 
mistress. 

The  hacienda  was  a  low,  rambling  structure,  its 
wings  enclosing  a  patio  which,  to  all  practical  pur- 
poses, made  the  rear  of  the  house  the  front. 

Acklin  surveyed  it  with  a  trace  of  envy.  The  cool, 
quiet,  half -darkened  house  was  a  relief  after  the  noise 
and  glare  of  the  Bull's  Head.  Jose  led  him  to  the 
patio,  where  cool  zephyrs  seemed  eternally  playing. 
With  a  sigh  of  relief  Acklin  sank  into  the  big,  com- 
fortable chair  his  host  offered.  The  old  man  clapped 
his  hands,  and  the  wrinkled,  leathery  Mariano,  his 
mozo,  or  house-boy,  came  on  the  run.  Jose  sent  him 
for  refreshments.  Almost  instantly  he  was  back,  bear- 
ing tall,  tinkling  glasses  of  cool  delight. 

They  sipped  their  drinks  in  silence.  From  where 
they  sat  they  could  hear  the  crooning  waters  of  Rebel 
Creek,  seventy-five  yards  away.  Acklin 's  eyes  roamed 
the  patio,  with  its  beds  of  Indian  pinks  and  lupines. 
A  cleverly  contrived  ditch  brought  its  life-giving 
waters  to  the  flowers.  From  the  shelter  of  its  grassy 
banks  a  frog  croaked  querulously. 

Jose  offered  him  one  of  his  choice  cigars. 

"My  friend/'  he  asked,  "what  brings  you  to  the 
Rancho  Buena  Vista  this  time ;  business,  or  pleasure  ? ' ' 

"It  's  always  a  pleasure  to  come  here,  Senor.  But 
business;  that 's  something  else.  By  the  way,"  and 
Acklin 's  big,  blue  eyes  contracted  until  they  seemed 
to  shade  to  gray,  "have  you  seen  the  fellow  who 
bought  the  old  Webster  place?" 


'  12  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"  Several  times.  He  's  here  to-day,  down  at  the 
corral.  Esteban  and  the  vaqueros  are  breaking 
horses. ' ' 

"What  's  his  game?'7  Acklin  snapped. 

"Senor,  the  man  is  no  fool!  I  sold  him  a  bull  two 
days  ago.  He  haggled  over  the  price  to  the  last 
penny.  I  think  he  will  do  what  he  says  he  will  do." 

" Humph!  He  's  a  fool!  "Where  is  he  going  to 
get  his  water?  A  well?  That  makes  me  laugh.  I 
wouldn't  take  that  ranch  as  a  gift.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  have  n't  you  warned  half  a  dozen  of  your  people 
against  taking  it?" 

"That  is  true,  my  friend,"  Jose  asserted.  "Yon 
remember  how  the  creek  used  to  lose  itself  in  the 
quicksands  below  the  house?  "Webster  tried  to  save 
that  water  many  times;  but  everywhere  he  turned 
he  found  quicksand.  I  am  afraid  a  well  there  would 
fill  up  as  soon  as  it  was  dug." 

' '  There  you  are ! ' '  Acklin  got  to  his  feet.  He  was 
a  big  man,  good  to  look  at  and  younger  than  his 
appearance  implied.  "Did  you  tell  him  about  the 
quicksand  ? ' ' 

"Si!  He  said  it  did  n't  worry  him — 'none,'  I  think 
he  said." 

"Of  course  not;  it  's  a  game.  You  mark  my 
words.  What  's  he  going  after;  sheep  or  cattle?" 

Old  Ironsides  smiled. 

"No  more  sheep,  my  friend.  Don't  let  that  worry 
you.  But  enough  of  this  man  Bodine.  How  is  every- 
thing at  the  Bull's  Head?" 

" Oh,  so-so.    Still  losing  a  lot  of  calves." 


WHISPEEING  SAGE  13 

"My  people,  I  hope,  are  not  suspected?" 

"No.  We  are  losing  them  in  the  other  direction, 
toward  the  Owyhee." 

The  talk  drifted  to  cattle  and  the  crops.  The  old 
Basque  had  a  sense  of  poise  and  a  choice  of  words 
that  enabled  him  to  hold  his  own  with  the  college-bred 
Acklin. 

A  little  tot  of  six,  unnoticed  by  them  as  they  talked, 
had  felt  his  way  upon  the  veranda.  His  sensitive 
fingers  touched  each  familiar  table  and  chair,  as  if 
they  were  sign-posts  to  his  unseeing  eyes.  The  mur- 
mur of  his  father's  voice  told  his  keen  ears  where 
the  gray-haired  Jose  sat.  With  uncanny  swiftness 
the  boy  made  his  way  toward  him.  Once  he  almost 
stumbled,  and  the  sound  of  his  scuffing  feet  caught 
the  old  man's  ears.  Instantly  the  father  arose,  and 
lifted  the  little  fellow  up  to  him. 

"El  hi  jo  mio,"  he  said  tenderly.  "Those  bad 
chairs  are  always  in  the  way,  eh?" 

The  boy  rubbed  his  bruised  leg  and  laughed  as  his 
father  petted  him.  He  was  a  beautiful  child.  His 
brown,  staring  eyes  made  a  mute  appeal  to  friend  and 
foe. 

For  close  to  five  years,  Jose  had  been  both  father 
and  mother  to  the  little  blind  Basilio.  In  spite  of 
all  his  size  and  strength,  it  was  with  the  delicate 
touch  of  a  woman  that  the  old  Basque  caressed  the 
child. 

Acklin  stretched  out  his  hands  to  the  boy. 

"How  is  my  little  buckaroo  to-day?"  he  asked 
playfully. 


14  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Fine,"  the  child  answered  timidly,  but  he  made 
no  attempt  to  go  to  him. 

"It  is  Senor  Acklin,  mno  mio,"  the  old  man 
prompted.  "Can't  you  shake  hands  with  the 
Senor?" 

Basilio  did  as  he  was  bid.  Acklin  had  often  tried 
to  make  friends  with  him;  but  the  boy  held  aloof  as 
if  he  sensed — with  that  faculty  the  blind  possess — an 
enemy,  rather  than  a  friend,  in  the  big  cow-man. 

His  father  set  the  boy  down  at  his  feet.  From  the 
fence  at  the  end  of  the  patio,  a  magpie  scolded  in 
raucous  tones.  Basilio  knew  that  particular  magpie. 
In  a  flash  he  slid  off  the  steps  and  ran  down  the 
graveled  walk  of  the  patio.  There  were  no  chairs  or 
tables  to  trip  him  there.  As  he  ran  he  cawed  and 
shrieked,  until  the  patio  seemed  alive  with  magpies. 

When  he  had  almost  reached  the  fastness  of  the 
vine-covered  fence,  a  black  head  bobbed  up  beyond  it, 
and  calling  again,  dashed  up  a  side-path  of  the  gar- 
den, with  the  boy  in  keen  pursuit.  It  was  the  Senorita 
Mercedes.  Hair  flying,  her  skirts  tucked  up  about 
her,  she  fled  helter-skelter  around  the  patio  until  she 
dropped  in  a  heap.  A  second  later  and  Basilio  was 
upon  her,  pulling  her  hair  and  showering  her  with 
fine  spray  from  the  tiny  ditch. 

This  romp  was  a  daily  pastime.  From  the  veranda 
Jose  and  Acklin  watched.  Old  Ironsides  pretended 
to  be  shocked  with  such  conduct  in  the  presence  of 
his  distinguished  visitor ;  at  the  same  time  he  gloried 
in  their  fun.  Acklin  laughed.  He  had  had  evidence 
enough  of  the  tomboy  spirit  of  the  beautiful  girl. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  15 

Jose  would  have  been  surprised  if  he  had  known  that 
the  mighty  Acklin  had  felt  the  sharpness  of  her  tongue 
more  than  once. 

In  answer  to  her  father's  call  she  came  up  the  steps 
truculently,  the  boy  hanging  on  to  the  ribbons  of  her 
dress. 

"Querida,  you  are  worse  than  a  boy,"  the  old  man 
scolded.  "What  kind  of  play  is  this,  before  our 
guest?" 

She  laughed  mischievously,  her  black  eyes  snapping. 
She  flashed  them  belligerently  at  Acklin.  He  had 
never  seen  her  more  beautiful;  her  gleaming  teeth, 
well  rounded  shoulders  and  bust,  and  warm  lips  all 
made  her  adorable. 

"You  come  to  see  me,  huh?"  she  asked. 

Acklin  blushed.  It  was  disconcerting  to  say  the 
least. 

The  fact  that  he  might  be  coming  so  regularly  to 
the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  to  see  its  mistress  had  begun 
to  dawn  on  old  Jose  some  time  back.  He  had  proved 
how  astute  he  was  by  not  saying  a  word.  What  an 
alliance  that  would  be!  Mercedes  would  in  reality 
be  the  queen  of  the  land  then.  But  now  that  his 
daughter  had  blurted  out  her  tomboy  question,  he 
blushed  as  furiously  as  Acklin. 

The  uncomfortable  visitor  tried  to  turn  her  blunt 
question  at  her  expense. 

"Now  what  else  could  bring  me  all  the  way  from 
the  Bull's  Head?  Why,  Miss  Mercedes,  without  you 
the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  would  be  deserted.  You 
lure  all  of  us  here." 


16  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"The  Senor  Bodine  he  say  that,  too.  (Si,  Senorita,' 
he  say,  'you  are  a  little  desert  rose.'  'The  love  of 
Mike,'  I  say.  'You  try  to  squeeze  my  hand  again, 
this  desert  rose  stick  her  thorns  in  you. '  ' ' 

"The  rogue!"  Jose  scolded. 

"What  hurt  that  make?"  she  demanded.  "I  like 
very  much  to  have  man  squeeze  my  hand — if  he  is 
nice  man." 

Jose  shook  his  finger  at  her.  Mercedes  was 
thoroughly  enjoying  herself.  Acklin  got  to  his  feet. 
He  knew  she  was  watching  him. 

"When  you  try  that,  eh?"  she  asked  saucily. 

"Stop  inmediamente!  Enough!"  her  father  cried. 
"You  are  a  hopeless  minx.  You  11  not  stay  for  sup- 
per, Senor?" 

"No,  I  11  be  getting  back,  I  guess." 

The  old  Basque  caught  up  Basilio  and  said  good- 
by  to  his  guest,  pleading  the  need  of  his  presence 
elsewhere.  Jose  knew  that  extreme  youth  and  old 
age  are  not  handmaidens  to  love.  Acklin  watched  the 
stately  old  man  out  of  sight.  Mercedes  had  caught 
up  a  guitar  and  was  strumming  it  idly. 

The  shadows  began  to  creep  along  the  veranda,  but 
both  she  and  the  tall  man  leaning  against  the  stone 
pillar  seemed  unmindful  of  them.  The  hour  and  the 
stillness  had  taken  Mercedes  to  the  knee  of  the  beauti- 
ful mother  who  had  sat  here  years  ago  and  sung 
these  same  tunes  to  her. 

All  of  the  wild,  tomboy  side  of  her  dropped  away, 
leaving  her  the  sweet,  emotional  little  chatelaine  her 


WHISPERING  SAGE  17 

mother  had  prayed  she  might  be.  The  lightly  held 
guitar  fell  to  her  lap. 

Acklin  sat  down  beside  her.  l '  Sing  some  more, ' '  he 
pleaded. 

Mercedes  shook  her  head. 

"Why  you  always  come  see  me?"  she  demanded. 

1 '  I  've  got  something  for  you, ' '  Acklin  smiled. 

"A  present?" 

Acklin  held  up  a  small  package.  He  waved  it  in 
front  of  her  eyes,  as  one  does  with  a  toy  for  a  child. 
Mercedes  clapped  her  hands  joyfully.  She  started  to 
unwrap  it,  when  she  stopped  short. 

"Why  you  bring  me  presents,  huh?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"I — er — why — "  Acklin  was  flustered.  He  had 
foreseen  this  moment,  but  his  rehearsed  speech  failed 
him.  Her  eyes  dared  him  to  go  on  with  it. 

"You'll  let  me  bring  you  a  little  present  now  and 
then,  won't  you,  ninaf" 

It  was  a  lame  effort  to  turn  her  question,  and  she 
laughed  in  glee. 

"You  like  me  so  much,  mister?"  she  pursued. 

"You  know  I  do.  This  little  present  came  all  the 
way  from  the  city." 

"City"  in  that  country  meant  San  Francisco. 

From  the  tissue-paper,  Mercedes  drew  forth  a  tiny 
vanity-case.  Her  nimble  fingers  found  the  spring 
that  unlocked  it.  With  delight  she  glimpsed  the 
dainty  articles  the  case  contained. 

Acklin  knew  Mercedes  was  pleased. 


18  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"What  you  call  that?"  she  murmured. 

"A  vanity-case.     Quite  the  thing  in  the  city." 

"Those  things  to  make  your  lips  and  cheeks  red — 
that  's  vanity,  huh?" 

She  laughed  heartily.  Acklin  was  forced  to  smile 
at  her  naivete.  Mercedes  tried  to  release  the  small 
compartment  that  held  the  powder-puff.  Acklin 
reached  out  his  hand  to  help  her.  She  felt  his  fingers 
pressing  her  own.  In  a  flash  she  jerked  her  hand 
away. 

"You  're  foxy,  huh,  like  the  Senor  Bodine?"  she 
cried. 

"Oh,  damn  Bodine,"  Acklin  rasped  out. 

"Eavesdroppers  hear  no  good  of  themselves,"  a 
voice  answered  in  unctuous  sweetness. 

Mercedes  and  Acklin  turned.  Bodine  lounged 
against  a  pillar  at  the  end  of  the  veranda.  He  had 
been,  an  interested  witness  of  the  present-making. 
Acklin  acknowledged  the  introduction  with  a  curt 
nod  of  his  head.  Buck  grinned.  A  less  hardy  man 
than  Bodine  would  have  wilted  under  the  look  of 
contempt  with  which  she  swept  him  from  head  to 
foot. 

"So,  Mr.  Fresh!  For  once  you  tell  the  truth, 
huh?" 

"I  sure  did  n't  know  I  was  intruding  on  any  party, 
Senorita.  I  just  came  up  to  say  good-by.  I  broke 
that  bad  gray  for  Esteban.  That  caballo  11  be  gentle 
enough  for  you  to  ride  now." 

Acklin  got  to  his  feet. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  19 

"Well,  I  guess  I  '11  get  my  hat  and  run  along," 
he  said,  in  that  tired  way  which  was  common  with 
him. 

Bodine  waited  until  the  big  cow-man  was  out  of 
ear-shot. 

In  a  voice  that  held  all  the  intimacy  he  could  put 
into  it,  he  whispered,  "He  'd  be  a  great  catch  for 
you,  little  girl." 

His  sedulous  eyes  appraised  her  as  they  had  at 
their  first  meeting.  All  women  interested  Bodine, 
but  not  in  quite  the  particular  way  that  she  did.  It 
was  because  of  Mercedes  that  he  cultivated  her 
brother,  Esteban. 

"You  think  so,  eh?"  she  asked  tauntingly.  "For 
why  I  want  to  catch  him?"  She  stamped  her  foot 
angrily. 

Bodine  bent  over  her :  "You  can  trust  me,  querida; 
I  won't  tell." 

"Trust  you,"  she  mimicked.  "I  wouldn't  trust 
you  that  far."  She  snapped  her  fingers  to  show 
him. 

Buck  grinned.  There  was  a  charm,  a  certain  air 
of  ease,  here  at  the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  that  had 
eluded  Bodine  all  his  life;  something  from  which  it 
seemed  he  had  been  excluded.  It  nettled  him. 

Mercedes  caught  the  thought  in  his  eyes. 

"You  're  plumb  beautiful  when  you  get  het  up, 
Miss  Mercedes,"  he  said  insidiously.  "I  hope  to  ad- 
mire you  are.  I  like  spirit  in  a  woman,  same  as  I  do 
in  a  horse." 


20  WHISPERING  SAGE 

'  *  You  like  to  break  that  spirit,  too,  huh  ?  You  best 
not  try  those  trick  on  me.  You  make  me  what  you 
call  tired. " 

Like  an  angry  terrier,  she  flounced  out  of  her  chair, 
and  left  Bodine  to  himself.  She  slammed  the  screen 
door  behind  her. 

*  *  Burn  up,  you  little  she-devil, ' '  he  muttered  under 
his  breath.  "I  bet  I  11  break  you  of  that  before 
I  'm  through." 

Acklin  came  along  then,  and  they  walked  to  their 
horses  together. 

" Which  way  you  going?"  Bodine  asked. 

" Back  to  the  Bull's  Head." 

"I  '11  side  you  as  far  as  the  Webster,  if  you  have 
no  objection." 

"No  harm  in  that,"  Acklin  answered.  "Come 
along." 


CHAPTEE  III 

ACKLIN  was  anxious  to  talk  to  Bodine.    Esteban 
waved  them  good-by  as  they  cantered  away. 

Buck  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"Nice  little  bag  of  tricks  back  there. " 

He  laughed.  Acklin  looked  at  him,  but  did  not 
answer. 

"Her  bosco  dad  might  hold  her  down  to  conven- 
tion," the  other  went  on.  "But  her  mother 's  white 
blood  might  make  her  listen  to  reason. "  He  paused 
until  he  was  sure  Acklin  followed  him.  "That  is, 
if  the  Big  Boss  used  a  little  reason. " 

"What  are  you  hinting  at?"  Acklin  demanded 
peremptorily. 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  are  serious  with 
that  kid,  do  you?" 

They  were  walking  their  horses.  Acklin  pulled  up. 
He  held  Bodine 's  eye. 

"Suppose  we  leave  her  out  of  this,"  he  said  icily. 

"It  's  none  of  my  business,  Acklin.  I  just  won- 
dered what  your  game  was." 

"What  's  yours?" 

Acklin  drove  his  question  home  so  suddenly  that 
Bodine  was  stumped  for  an  answer. 

"Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "now  we  are  getting 
somewheres. ' ' 

"What  do  you  mean?" 
21 


22  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Oh,  nothing;  only  these  foreigners  seem  to  be 
damned  prosperous  around  here,  don't  they?  From 
your  nest  at  the  Bull's  Head,  these  ranches  down 
here  must  look  pretty  sweet.  What  a  place  this 
valley  would  be  to  fatten  cattle  in.  And  to  think  that 
you  could  have  had  it  for  a  song." 

Bodine  clucked  his  tongue  at  the  pity  of  it. 

"Well?" 

Acklin's  patience  was  running  out. 

"Those  Basques  have  got  the  water  that  belongs 
to  me  by  rights.  You  know  that,  Acklin." 

"Why  don't  you  go  after  it,  then?" 

"I  'm  going  after  it.  Don't  let  that  worry  you. 
And  if  you  are  half  as  wise  as  I  think  you  are, 
Acklin,  I  '11  get  it.  All  I  want  is  a  little  Double  A 
backing,  to  put  this  deal  through." 

Acklin's  eyes  contracted.  His  surmise  had  been 
correct. 

"You  make  me  smile,  Bodine,"  he  said.  "The 
Double  A  isn't  pulling  coals  out  of  the  fire  for 
others.  You  '11  run  bang  into  the  law  if  you  touch 
that  water. ' ' 

"Law!  Say,  I  've  got  all  the  law  I  need.  The 
county  records  say  I  am  entitled  to  fourteen  inches. 
But  why  talk  of  law?  If  you  '11  back  me  up,  the 
law  will  be  the  last  thing  to  worry  about." 

' '  I  don 't  Imow  how  you  figure  to  cut  me  in,  Bodine ; 
but  you  don't  think  I  'd  be  a  party  to  a  deal  to  do 
these  people  out  of  their  water,  do  you?" 

Bodine  almost  fell  off  his  horse  as  Acklin  uttered 
his  sanctimonious  words. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  23 

"0  hell!"  he  cried  impatiently.  "Say,  Acklin,  do 
you  think  I  am  a  fool  ?  Listen  to  me ;  I  'm  no  Basque ! 
Maybe  you  can  get  away  with  that  drivel  on  them. 
You  flew  off  your  handle  a  little  while  back  when  I 
tried  to  twit  you  about  that  Basque  kid.  As  if  I 
did  n  't  know  you  were  only  playing !  Tell  me  when 
the  Double  A  ever  held  out  a  helping  hand  to  a 
bosco?  Why,  if  you  could  grab  up  these  ranches 
down  here  for  a  song,  you  'd  do  it  quicker  than  scat. 
I  know  how  things  have  gone  along  this  creek.  These 
Basques  have  caught  you,  time  after  time,  taking 
more  than  your  share  of  water.  You  need  it!  You 
ought  to  have  twice  as  much  as  you  Ve  got.  You  'd 
like  to  get  every  drop  of  it;  but  even  with  your  pull 
in  the  courts  you  're  afraid  to  tackle  this.  It  isn't 
old  Arrascada  and  his  crowd  who  Ve  held  you  back. 
No,  sir !  It  's  those  ranchers  along  the  Little  Washoe. 
This  creek  is  their  big  alee.  Without  it,  that  river 
would  be  bone-dry  by  July.  That 's  why  the  sign 
is  up,  'Hands  Off !'  :  Bodine  paused  for  breath. 
"Well,"  he  went  on,  "now  that  we  understand  each 
other,  can  we  go  on  with  this  conversation  without 
any  more  of  that  Sunday-school  stuff  ? ' ' 

Acklin  smiled;  but  his  eyes  were  gray,  instead  of 
their  accustomed  blue.  The  smile  meant  nothing. 

"Seeing  you-Jre  fully  grown,"  he  said,  "I  11  waive 
the  *  Sunday-school  stuff/  What  have  you  got  up 
your  sleeve?" 

"Just  this,  Acklin.  You  and  I  can  get  every  inch 
of  water  there  is  in  this  creek.  And  we  11  make  the 
law  help  us.  I  '11  get  the  water  I  need,  and  you  '11 


24  WHISPERING  SAGE 

get  enough  to  irrigate  the  entire  upper  end  of  the 
valley.  Soon  as  these  Basques  find  their  water  is 
gone,  they  11  throw  up  the  sponge.  Of  course  they  '11 
fight  for  a  while ;  but  in  the  end  you  11  buy  up  their 
places  for  a  package  of  gum.  Now,  if  you  're  willing 
to  talk  turkey,  you  come  to  my  place  in  the  morn- 
ing. Think  it  over.  No  need  telling  you  what  I  've 
got  on  my  mind,  if  you  're  not  interested.  .  .  .  I  'm 
going  to  leave  you  here.  .  .  .  Adios." 

Acklin  rode  on.  When  he  reached  the  Bull's  Head 
he  retired  to  the  little  room  that  served  him  as  an 
office,  and  smoked  many  pipefuls  as  he  pondered  over 
the  astuteness  of  Mr.  Bodine. 

What  the  fellow  had  told  him  did  not  cause  Acklin 
a  moment's  worry.  He  had  said  nothing  but  what 
the  merest  tyro  in  Paradise  knew  of  his  needs  and 
dreams.  But  while  he  dismissed  Bodine 's  talk  lightly, 
he  took  the  man  seriously  enough. 

"He  's  a  blow-hard,"  he  muttered  to  himself. 
"He  's  theatrical;  he  '11  be  a  bad  loser,  too.  Yes,  sir, 
Bodine,  your  ego  is  entirely  too  large.  I  think  you  '11 
cheat,  but  will  you  shoot — and  inquire  afterwards; 
or  do  it  in  the  back,  and  make  the  inquiring  un- 
necessary? Well,  we  '11  see.  I  shouldn't  wonder  but 
you  're  the  bird  I  have  been  waiting  for. ' ' 

The  Webster  Creek  rancher  had  touched  fire  to 
plans  long  dormant  in  Acklin 's  mind.  He  smiled  at 
Bodine 's  patronizing  of  him.  If  what  Bodine  had 
to  tell  him  was  as  he  expected,  he  knew  the  final 
outcome  would  be  such  that  a  little  lording  now  by 
that  individual  was  a  cheap  enough  price  to  pay. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  25 

In  the  clean  blue  and  white  morning  Acklin  rode 
to  Webster  Creek.  Far  off  down  the  valley  the  white- 
washed buildings  of  the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  and  its 
distant  neighbors  glistened  in  the  sun.  Lowering 
skies  with  their  sinister  clouds  of  black  would  have 
been  more  appropriate  for  this  meeting. 

"All  right,  Acklin,"  Bodine  answered  in  reply  to 
the  other's  question.  "I  11  put  my  cards  on  the 
table.  Here  they  are.  I  'm  going  to  turn  that  water 
back  into  the  Webster !  I  've  been  over  the  spot  where 
the  creeks  used  to  fork  a  hundred  times.  Nature 
changed  that  water  in  one  night.  I  '11  do  it  quicker 
than  that.  There  is  nothing  but  sand  and  small  rock 
there.  Two  days  after  it  is  done,  no  man  on  earth 
can  prove  that  old  lady  Nature  did  n't  twist  it  for  the 
second  time.  These  Basques  were  satisfied  to  take 
what  she  gave  them  once.  By  God,  they  11  have  to 
be  satisfied  a  second  time!  I  won't  have  any  cloud- 
burst to  help  me  out.  They  can  think  I  turned  it; 
but  they  won't  be  able  to  prove  it;  not  if  I  can  keep 
them  away  for  a  few  days.  Remember  all  the  time, 
too,  that  the  State  says  I  am  to  have  fourteen  inches 
of  water  here.  No  one  has  ever  proved  that  I  have  n  't 
the  right  by  law  to  turn  that  water  back.  Only, 
when  I  turn  it  back,  I  'm  going  to  turn  all  of  it. 
That  's  where  you  are  going  to  be  interested.  Web- 
ster Creek  peters  out  in  that  sink  two  miles  below 
here.  Once  the  water  is  in  this  creek  it  isn't  'con- 
tiguous water'  to  any  stream  on  earth.  Between  us, 
we  11  take  what  we  please  and  let  the  balance  go  to 
the  devil.  My  boys  will  be  here  in  a  day  or  so,  they  '11 


26  WHISPERING  SAGE 

do  this  job.  They  won't  talk  either.  I  '11  tip  you 
off  the  night  I  intend  to  do  it.  You  be  there,  or  send 
your  foreman.  Just  so  I  '11  know  I  don't  stand 
alone." 

Bodine  bent  over  and  picked  up  a  stick.  With  it 
he  drew  in  the  sand  at  his  feet  a  rough  map  of  the 
valley. 

"It  's  almost  due  east  from  here  to  the  old  forks 
of  these  creeks.  But  right  here,  just  as  Webster 
Creek  neared  the  other  one,  it  turned  north.  For 
almost  half  a  mile  they  paralleled  each  other  before 
they  met.  Your  line  follows  this  creek  across  the 
valley,  only  it  keeps  straight  on  right  into  those  foot- 
hills. That  means  that  Webster  Creek  flowed  through 
your  property  for  that  half-mile.  That  's  right, 
ain't  it?" 

Acklin  nodded  in  assent. 

"Well,  when  the  night  comes  I  want  you  to  have 
your  men  ride  your  line.  Don't  let  any  one  through. 
Keep  your  boys  there  for  a  few  days.  Pass  the  word 
that  some  one 's  runnin '  an  iron  on  your  stuff.  That  '11 
be  excuse  enough.  We  '11  be  safe  then." 

"But  what  about  the  morning  after?  As  soon  as 
the  water  drops  the  Basques  will  come  on  the  run. 
They  won't  wait  for  the  law." 

f  l  Let  'em  come !  It  means  a  fortune  to  us.  We  've 
got  to  expect  a  fight.  There  '11  be  gun-play  and  hell 
for  fair.  I  'm  willing  to  risk  it.  Are  you  ? ' ' 

Acklin  got  to  his  feet  and  brushed  the  dust  from 
his  corduroys. 

"Bodine,"  he  said,  "you  underestimate  what  this 


WHISPERING  SAGE  27 

fight  will  be.  Old  Jose  will  rally  his  crowd  around 
him  for  a  real  war.  They  can't  live  without  that 
water.  I  Ve  been  through  these  affairs  before;  I 
know  what  they  mean.  There  will  be  reprisals;  cat- 
tle will  be  killed  or  run  off.  It  will  take  a  lot  of 
my  men.  The  whole  routine  of  the  place  will  be 
scrambled ;  and  that 's  got  to  be  ironed  out  before 
the  fall  round-up  is  on.  You  keep  still  for  a  couple 
days.  I  11  give  you  my  answer  then." 

Although  by  this  arrangement  the  matter  rested, 
neither  man  waited  to  act. 

Acklin  had  not  even  reached  home  before  Bodine 
had  started  Shorty  on  his  way  to  the  Malheur  Lakes, 
to  find  Gloomy  and  his  other  men.  And  once  Acklin 
had  reached  the  Bull's  Head,  he  immediately  sent  for 
Morrow,  his  foreman. 

"Cash,"  he  said,  "we  've  been  thick-headed.  This 
fellow  Bodine  has  put  his  finger  on  the  thing  we 
should  have  seen  first  shot." 

He  repeated  their  conversation  to  him. 

'  *  Don 't  that  beat  all ! "  Cash  exclaimed.  ' '  With  all 
of  the  water  flowing  into  the  Webster,  and  petering 
out  in  the  sink,  why,  we  wouldn't  have  to  give  a 
whoop  for  those  fellows  down  on  the  Washoe.  Web- 
ster Creek  and  the  Little  Washoe  River  don't  get 
within  ten  miles  of  each  other.  It  was  just  a  case  of 
whole  hog  or  none.  We  're  getting  too  refined. ' ' 

"Well,  I  'm  tempted  to  risk  it,  Cash.  Suppose  we 
string  along  for  a  while.  Let  him  and  his  men  do 
the  actual  work.  You  just  drop  around  about  the 
time  they  are  there — you  know,  casual-like — if  you 


28  WHISPERING  SAGE 

ever  have  to  swear  to  it.  In  the  meantime  send  some 
of  the  boys  down  to  the  Benoist  water-hole.  We  are 
having  trouble  enough  with  the  calves.  Don't  tell 
them  anything  else  is  in  the  wind.  Give  them  the 
word  not  to  let  any  one  through.  Make  Skip  the 
straw-boss  down  there.  I  rather  fancy  him.  We  can 
go  that  far  without  a  hitch.  If  Bodine  turns  the 
water,  you  run  a  drift  fence  along  our  line  across  the 
valley.  Straight  east  and  west  with  those  dead  trees 
is  near  enough.  We  've  got  the  wire  and  posts.  Most 
of  the  boys  will  be  back  from  the  north  to-morrow. 
You  can  get  that  fence  up  in  a  hurry  if  you  have 
to." 

"You  leave  that  to  me,"  Cash  cut  in.  "Soon  as 
the  fence  is  up  I  '11  drive  enough  stock  into  the 
valley  to  make  that  fence  look  on  the  square.  Say, 
sounds  like  old  times,  getting  ready  for  a  war  like 
this.  How  your  pa  enjoyed  it.  But  honest,  I  hate 
to  see  Old  Ironsides  get  it  in  the  neck.  Old  Jose  is 
such  a  white  Basque.  But  as  your  pa  used  to  say, 
'Business  is  like  marriage.  You  got  to  take  the  bitter 
with  the  sweet. '  ' ' 

Acklin  turned  back  to  his  desk  when  Morrow  had 
left.  He  pursed  his  lips  as  he  thought  of  Jose  and 
Mercedes.  If  this  deal  went  through — and  with  his 
money  and  political  power,  it  would, — well,  she  'd  be 
his  to  a  certainty.  Paradise  Valley  would  be  his. 
He  'd  be  its  feudal  lord  even  as  he  was  the  lord  now 
of  a  domain  larger  than  the  Balkans. 

The  thought  brought  the  perspiration  to  his  brow. 
He  was  about  to  steal  from  her;  but  he  stole  as  did 


WHISPERING  SAGE  29 

the  robber  barons  of  old,  from  the  many,  that  he  might 
have  riches  to  pour  into  the  lap  of  his  favorite  one. 

But  all  his  musing  carried  one  reservation;  he  re- 
mained the  lord! 


CHAPTER  IV 

TEN  days  later  a  stranger  crossed  the  desert  from 
Golconda.  He  headed  due  north  for  the  Benoist 
water-hole.  He  knew  he  was  entering  Paradise  Val- 
ley by  forbidden  ways.  The  hint  that  he  take  the 
south  road  had  reached  him  a  day  back. 

Rumor  said  the  Double  A  was  losing  untold  num- 
bers of  calves.  Therefore  crossing  Double  A  country 
without  the  official  Acklin  "0.  K."  was  not  being 
done.  Henry  Adams  and  old  man  Acklin  had  been 
monarchs  of  more  than  they  surveyed,  both  figura- 
tively and  actually,  for  so  long  that  no  one  questioned 
any  right  the  Double  A  arrogated  to  itself. 

They  had  learned  early  in  life  that  though  it  is 
well  to  know  the  law,  it  is  even  better  to  know  the 
judge.  Other  cow  outfits  had  disappeared,  but  the 
mighty  Double  A  empire  had  survived,  proving  that 
the  younger  Acklin  had  learned  his  lesson  well. 

It  was  not  the  stranger's  whim  to  oppose  him.  By 
the  merest  chance  he  had  taken  the  north  fork  at 
"Wyand's.  The  willows  ahead  of  him,  he  surmised, 
marked  the  water-hole.  North,  over  the  rise,  he  would' 
find  the  valley. 

He  sent  his  horse  ahead  at  a  hard  gallop.  He  found 
that  the  spring  had  made  a  small  pool  in  the  willows. 
He  swung  to  the  ground  and  loosened  the  cinches, 
but  almost  instantly  the  animal  lifted  his  dripping 

30 


WHISPERING  SAGE  31 

muzzle  and  turned  an  inquiring  eye  behind  him.  The 
stranger  followed  suit.  In  the  shadow  of  the  trees 
two  men  sat. 

The  older  of  the  two,  a  black-visaged  fellow,  spoke : 
"  Howdy,  stranger !" 

It  was  Skip  Lavelle,  Acklin's  straw-boss. 

* 'Howdy!"  Kildare  responded  in  the  same  flat,  tell- 
nothing  tone  in  which  he  had  been  accosted.  His  keen 
eyes  took  in  the  rifles  reposing  so  conveniently  in 
their  laps,  the  soiled  cards,  and  the  interrupted  game 
of  monte. 

The  man  who  had  addressed  him  got  to  his  feet. 

"What  's  your  name,  stranger?" 

"Kildare;  Blaze  Kildare." 

"Yuh  ain't  aimin'  to  linger  around  here,  be  yah?" 

Blaze  eyed  him  thoughtfully  as  he  drawled  his  re- 
ply: "Why,  that  all  depends,  don't  it?" 

He  turned  and  started  to  lift  the  saddle  off  his 
horse. 

"No  use  takin'  that  down,  mister;  nary  nit!" 

For  answer,  Kildare  pulled  it  to  the  ground. 

"Now  listen  to  me,  muchacho,"  he  purred.  "I  'm 
going  to  breathe  my  horse,  and  we  're  going  to  drink 
our  bellies  full  of  water  before  we  light  out  of  here. 
What  's  all  the  big  excite,  anyways.  I  got  a  permit 
to  cross  this  country." 

"Let  's  see  it,"  Skip  and  the  other,  Chet  Devine, 
demanded. 

"Now  what  did  I  do  with  that  permit?" 

He  took  his  hat  off,  and  peered  into  it. 

"Oh,  yes!"    He  laughed.    "Here  it  is!" 


32  WHISPERING  SAGE 

And  in  his  hand  Kildare  held  a  derringer  that  had 
been  strapped  in  his  sombrero. 

" Stick  'em  up!"  he  said  in  velvety  tones. 

"Well,  I  '11  be  damned!"  Skip  began. 

He  stopped  short,  and  instinctively  Blaze  sensed 
that  some  one  was  back  of  him ;  but  he  dared  not  turn 
around.  Before  Skip  could  recover  his  tongue,  a 
voice  droned  in  sweet  and  dreadful  tones  in  Kildare 's 
ear:  "That  's  good!  That's  awfully  good!  It's 
your  turn  to  elevate,  stranger!" 

Blaze  felt  a  gun-barrel  boring  into  his  neck.  He 
obliged  with  alacrity.  With  nimble  fingers  his  guns 
were  taken  from  him. 

This  detail  attended  to,  the  man  at  his  back  con- 
tinued not  unpleasantly: 

"Take  your  hands  down,  and  shake.  I  'm  Cash 
Morrow,  the  foreman  of  the  outfit  these  innocent  little 
lambs  belong  to;  but  I  can  appreciate  art  when  I 
see  it.  Shake!" 

The  bronzed,  lean,  sinewy  Cash,  for  all  his  years, 
was  a  fit  mate  for  the  big  man  before  him.  Kildare 
grinned  at  him  as  Cash  handed  back  his  guns. 

"Sure  'nough.  I  didn't  know  I  was  giving  a 
show,"  he  said  easily,  with  the  familiarity  bred  of 
the  desert.  I  'm  mighty  sorry  I  discommoded  your 
boys,  Cash.  I  thought  maybe  they  were  some  of  those 
Basque  sheepmen  I  hear  this  valley  is  loaded  up 
with." 

The  delicious  twinkle,  which  was  one  of  his  happiest 
mannerisms,  came  into  Kildare 's  eyes  as  he  uttered 
this  rank  falsehood.  Chet  and  Skip  were  as  uncom- 


WHISPERING  SAGE  33 

fortable  as  two  bashful  schoolboys.  A  laugh  from  the 
direction  of  the  lower  end  of  the  willows  was  little 
calculated  to  restore  their  equanimity. 

" Basque  sheepmen !"  a  voice  .cried  mockingly. 

A  freckled  face  topped  by  a  shock  of  red  hair  ap- 
peared above  a  green  mahogany  bush.  The  red- 
haired  one  sized  up  Blaze. 

"Say,  pardner,"  he  asked,  "who  are  you  ridin* 
fort" 

There  was  a  noticeable  drawl  in  Kildare's  voice; 
an  ease  of  expression  that  made  him  at  home  among 
these  buckaroos.  Also  there  was  that  elision  of  un- 
necessary words,  and  at  the  same  time  an  indirection 
of  approach  to  the  main  subject,  which  stamped  him 
desert-bred. 

"Why/*  and  although  he  answered  the  man  with 
the  flaming  hair,  his  eyes  followed  Cash,  * '  I  'm  riding 
for  the  Double  A,  if  the  foreman  gets  the  right  dope. 
We,"  nodding  toward  his  horse,  "been  getting  our 
eats  from  the  Lonely  O  up  in  Monty.  Old  Ted 
reckoned  I  'd  wind  up  here." 

"Take  him  on,  Cash,"  the  owner  of  the  freckles 
urged,  coming  out  of  the  shelter  of  the  bushes.  '  *  Chet 
and  Skip  ain't  no  darn  use,  nohow,  except  to  help 
Chink  Charlie  in  the  cook-house.  You  11  save  one 
man's  wages." 

"You  lay  off  the  boys,  Melody,"  Cash  cut  in. 
"They  '11  both  make  hands  yet.  Although  that  hat 
trick  is  older  than  I  am.  It  '11  be  forty  and  cakes 
until  the  fall  round-up  is  over,  Kildare.  Are  you 
on?" 


34  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Blaze  grinned. 

"You  've  sure  hired  a  man,  mister. " 

"You  'II  double  that,  if  you  throw  a  wise  crap/' 
Melody  added.  "To-day  is  pay-day,  and  pay-day 
aim  is  poor,  or  you  wouldn't  have  got  away  with  the 
hat  trick. " 

"Skip  will  tell  you  what  to  do/'  Cash  went  on. 
"You  better  drift  down  into  the  valley  to-night,  Skip. 
String  out  along  the  old  Webster  wash.  Don't  let 
any  one  through.  Here,  Kildare,  you  take  my  rifle. " 

"What,  Basques?"  Blaze  questioned. 

"Basques  will  do,"  Cash  nodded.  "I  '11  be  down 
in  the  morning. " 

He  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  off. 

"Here  's  where  the  boscos  get  it/'  Melody  said 
gloomily  as  he  made  coffee  for  Blaze.  Skip  and  Chet 
were  asleep.  "All  this  talk  of  losin'  stock  is  bunk. 
We  're  just  gettin'  ready  for  another  grab.  I  got 
eyes,  and  sense/' 

"Land?"  Blaze  queried. 

"No.  We  got  all  the  land  in  the  world.  It  's  water 
this  time." 

As  Blaze  ate,  Melody  explained  himself,  and  his 
surmise  was  more  correct  than  he  knew:  "There 
wasn't  a  thing  in  the  wind  until  this  fellow  buys 
in  the  old  Webster  place." 

"I  heard  down  in  Golconda  that  Hank  had  sold  it," 
Blaze  smiled.  "He's  been  drunk  ever  since.  Sounds 
as  though  he  must  a  met  up  with  somebody  from  the 
effete  East." 

"No,  not  this  hombre.    He  throws  a  mean  leg  over 


WHISPERING  SAGE  35 

a  horse.  He  's  Western  by  his  talk.  Too  talky  for 
me,  though.  Says  he  's  goin'  to  ranch  it.  Can't  do 
that  without  water.  The  big  boss  and  he  's  been 
gettin*  thick.  We  're  goin'  to  have  trouble.  If 
you  're  done  let  's  ride  up  and  have  a  look  at  the 
valley." 

Melody  pointed  out  the  broken  edge  of  dead  willows 
and  buckthorn  that  marked  the  spot  where  Rebel 
Creek  had  divided  its  water  in  the  past,  and  sent  part 
of  its  precious  burden  across  the  heart  of  the  valley. 

They  sat  in  their  saddles  and  smoked  as  the  red- 
haired  man  talked. 

"That  's  a  big  place  there  in  the  bend,  just  before 
Rebel  Creek  gets  to  the  river,"  Blaze  drawled.  He 
could  see  the  irrigation-ditches  which  crisscrossed  the 
land  as  though  they  were  ribbons  of  silver  that  bound 
it  together. 

1 '  That  's  the  Rancho  Buena  Vista.  Wait  till  you 
see  the  girl  that  lives  there — Old  Ironsides 's  daughter. 
She  's  the  reason  they  named  this  place  Paradise. 
Her  daddy  is  the  king-pin  of  the  Basques.  He  's  all 
right,  is  Jose.  Only  bosco  I  ever  savvied.  He  's  got 
a  son,  too.  Always  pullin'  on  the  bit,  that  boy.  Too 
much  fire  in  him !  Then  there  's  a  blind  kid — Basilio. 
No  mother  either.  Pretty  tough  that,  eh?  I  knew 
the  old  lady.  Wasn't  any  Basque.  Guess  that  's 
how  the  Senorita  gets  her  spunk.  But  wait  till  you 
see  this  Mercedes  girl.  Man,  when  I  look  at  her  I 
don't  miss  sugar.  She  's  sweet.  .  .  .  G'wan  you  ole 
fool,"  he  growled  to  his  horse.  "Let  's  go  back." 

"You  go  on,   Melody.     I  'm  going  down  to  the 


36  WHISPERING  SAGE 

river  and  let  my  horse  roll  around  in  the  water.    He 
needs  it  if  I  'm  going  to  use  him  to-night." 

"Keep  your  eyes  open.  I  got  a  hunch  some  of 
these  Basques  ain't  dumb  to  what 's  goin'  to  be 
pulled." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  first  cool  hint  of  evening  reached  Kildare  as 
he  picked  his  way  along  the  Little  "Washoe.  The 
water  gurgled  at  his  feet.  Both  horse  and  man  be- 
came anxious  to  sport  in  it.  The  river  narrowed 
directly  ahead  of  him.  It  was  a  likely  place  for  a 
swim.  There  were  willows  on  the  opposite  bank.  He 
pressed  his  knees  into  his  horse's  sides  and  was  about 
to  ford  the  stream  when  the  animal  threw  back  its 
ears.  It  was  an  unmistakable  sign.  Some  one  was 
coming!  Kildare  reached  for  his  gun.  As  he  did 
so,  he  heard  a  child  crying.  He  wheeled  his  horse 
and  sent  him  along  the  soft  bank  about  fifty  yards  to 
where  the  river  turned.  What  he  beheld  caused  him 
to  shake  with  laughter.  He  put  away  his  gun 
guiltily. 

A  burro  stood  knee-deep  in  the  middle  of  the  river. 
Marooned  on  his  back  was  a  frightened  child,  madly 
clutching  a  fishing-pole  in  one  hand,  while  in  the  other 
he  held  a  string  of  small  bass.  With  his  tiny  heels 
he  beat  the  burro's  sides,  and  alternately  shrieked 
and  cried  at  him  to  move.  Struggling  in  the  water 
at  the  burrow's  head  was  a  girlj  the  most  beautiful 
girl  Blaze  had  ever  seen. 

She  had  taken  off  her  shoes  and  stockings.  Bare- 
legged, her  dress  held  high  about  her  waist,  she 

37 


the  Senorita  Meneeto 


WHISPERING  SAGE  39 

her  in  his  arms,  however,  and  she  could  see  the  twinkle 
in  his  friendly  eyes,  a  feeling  of  awe  and  embarrass- 
ment filled  her.  Unconsciously  she  tried  to  draw  her 
wet  dress  about  her  bare  legs. 

When  Blaze  had  set  her  on  the  bank,  he  smiled 
despite  himself.  Mercedes's  intuition  told  her  there 
was  only  kindliness  back  of  that  smile.  She  felt  her 
own  mouth  relax,  and  they  both  laughed. 

Fifty  yards  away  he  had  thought  her  beautiful; 
now  that  she  was  so  near  he  found  her  entrancing. 

The  finely  carved  nose,  her  well  drawn  chin — yes, 
he  looked  away  and  remembered  them ;  but  the  thing 
that  set  his  heart  beating  was  not  her  face  or  her 
flashing  eyes;  it  was  the  unbroken,  unsophisticated 
spirit  of  her.  He  had  lived  in  the  wilds,  and  knew 
its  creatures  well  enough  to  sense  in  her  a  vague 
similarity  to  them. 

His  discovery  of  her  and  the  ensuing  incident  had 
taken  only  a  few  seconds,  but  even  so  he  had  half 
guessed  who  she  was.  He  saw  that  the  little  fellow 
was  blind.  It  served  to  bring  Melody's  words  back 
to  him. 

"You  are  not  frightened?"  he  asked. 

' '  Oh,  no,  Senor, ' '  she  answered  with  a  smile.  ' '  But 
the  baby — see?" 

"I  '11  get  him  off  in  a  second;  then  we  11  try  to 
persuade  the  burro." 

Blaze  waded  out  to  get  the  boy.  As  he  reached  up 
his  hands  to  lift  him,  he  spoke. 

1  'Here  we  are,  Basilic,"  he  said.  " Don't  drop 
those  €sh  now." 


40  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  felt  a  delicious  thrill  pass  through  her 
as  she  listened  to  his  voice.  She  saw  her  brother 
wrap  his  arms  about  the  big  man's  neck.  It  came 
back  to  her  then  as  a  second  thought  that  he  had 
addressed  the  child  by  his  name.  And  yet  the  man 
was  a  stranger.  She  had  never  seen  either  him  or 
his  horse  in  the  valley  before. 

Basilio  had  stopped  crying.  Something  in  Blaze's 
voice  reassured  him.  And  then,  too,  Blaze  had  em- 
phasized what  to  the  boy  was  the  most  imperative 
need — to  save  the  fish.  A  second  later  he  set  him  on 
his  feet  beside  his  sister. 

"There  we  are/'  he  said  with  a  laugh,  "safe  and 
sound,  fish  and  all.  Now  we  '11  make  Mr.  Burro 
move." 

He  drew  his  six-gun  and,  holding  it  back  of  the 
animal's  ears,  pulled  the  trigger.  The  burro  leaped 
for  shore  as  if  he  had  been  shot  out  of  a  cannon. 

*  *  Ha,  Capitan !  Par  Dios,  you  move  quick  enough 
now/'  Mercedes  trilled. 

Capitan  stood  on  the  bank,  waving  his  long  ears  in 
Blaze's  direction,  apparently  determined  that  he 
would  not  be  taken  by  surprise  a  second  time.  Wet, 
but  laughing  and  happy,  Kildare  waded  ashore.  The 
girl  regarded  him  with  a  smile  as  he  stood  before  her, 
the  water  pouring  from  his  clothes  in  tiny  streams. 
Her  eyes  caused  Blaze  to  look  down  at  himself.  He 
was  a  sorry  sight. 

"Shucks,"  he  said  ruefully;  "now  I  Ve  gone  and 
got  my  feet  all  wet." 

Mercedes  had  pulled  on  her  shoes  and  stockings, 


WHISPERING  SAGE  41 

and  now,  while  one  arm  was  around  Basilio,  with  her 
free  hand  she  sought  to  tuck  her  rebellious  hair  into 
place. 

"Did  the  man  shoot  Capitan?"  the  child  asked 
timidly. 

"What,  shoot  that  good  twelve-dollar-and-a-half 
burro  ?  No,  sir ! ' '  Blaze  asserted.  ' '  I  just  creased  his 
ears  for  him.  When  you  say  arre  to  him,  now,  he  11 
move. ' ' 

"Senor,"  Mercedes  asked,  "how  you  know  the 
baby's  name?" 

Blaze  hung  his  head  sheepishly. 

"Why,  missy,"  he  stammered,  "I  just  guessed  at  it. 
But  I  reckoned  I  knew  who  you  were  as  soon  as  I 
saw  you.  I  allowed  he  was  your  brother,  too." 

"You  are  a  stranger,  though,  eh?" 

"Er  .  .  .  yes.  I  was  taking  my  first  look  at  Para- 
dise when  I  met  you.  I  guess  I  better  be  on  my 
way,"  he  concluded,  hoping  to  turn  the  conversa- 
tion. 

Mercedes  had  no  such  intention. 

"How  you  know  me,  then,  Senor?"  she  pursued. 

"Well,  you  see  a  ...  er  ...  a  man  once  told  me, 
that  ..."  Blaze  knew  his  feet  were  stepping  on  each 
other  in  embarrassment  .  .  .  "some  day  I  'd  meet  a 
Basque  girl  here,  with  beautiful  black  hair,  .  .  .  and 
black  eyes  .  .  .  and  pearly  white  teeth.  .  .  .  'Yes, 
and  when  you  do,'  he  said,  'you  '11  know  why  they 
call  this  place  Paradise.'  " 

Blaze  regarded  his  twitching  feet. 

"And  when  I  saw  you,"  he  went  on  with  eyes 


42  WHISPERING  SAGE 

averted,  "I  knew  lie  had  n't  lied.    I  guess  that  's  how 
I  knew  you  were  Miss  Mercedes." 

The  girl's  long  lashes  dropped  over  her  eyes. 
"Virgin  santa,"  she  murmured  softly.    "But  you  say 
very  nice  things,  Senor  .  .  .?" 

"Blaze/1 

"  Senor  Blaze, "  she  said. 

Kildare  's  horse  had  not  moved  from  the  spot  where 
Blaze  had  dropped  the  rein.  He  held  his  head  erect, 
ears  expectant.  His  master's  continued  interest  on 
the  other  side  of  the  little  stream  seemed  to  worry 
him.  He  pawed  the  ground,  and  when  that  failed 
to  earn  him  a  word,  he  whinnied. 

Blaze  whistled  so  low  that  Mercedes  barely  heard 
it.  Instantly  the  horse  came  to  him  and  allowed  the 
girl  to  stroke  his  head.  Blaze  lifted  Basilio  into  the 
empty  saddle. 

"He  's  safe  up  there,"  he  assured  her.  "My  Man 
likes  children." 

"What  a  strange  name  for  a  horse!"  Mercedes 
said. 

"We  are  old  pals.  Gentle  as  a  girl,  isn't  he?" 
Blaze  paused  for  a  moment.  "Yes,"  he  went  on,  "a 
sight  gentler  than  some  I  used  to  know." 

It  was  Mercedes's  turn  to  look  away. 

"You  remember  them  still,  eh,  Senor?" 

Blaze  shook  his  head  and  smiled.  Before  he  could 
answer,  the  hoof -beat  of  a  horse  being  driven  at  furi- 
ous speed  interrupted  him.  Mercedes  got  to  her  feet 
and  took  Basilio  out  of  the  saddle. 

"This  will  be  my  brother  Esteban,  or  one  of  our 


WHISPERING  SAGE  43 

vaqueros.  Maybe  some  day  you  will  try  and  find  the 
Raneho  Buena  Vista,  eh?"  she  added  naively. 

"Some  day/'  Blaze  answered.  "And  I'll  try 
hard  enough  to  find  it,  too." 

Mercedes  blushed  under  her  tan. 

The  oncoming  horse  splashed  through  the  water, 
covering  them  with  a  mist  of  silver  spray.  On  his 
back  sat  Esteban,  a  thin,  wiry,  narrow-hipped  youth. 
He  leaped  to  the  ground  and,  staring  inimically  at 
Blaze,  launched  into  a  tirade  of  excitable  Spanish. 
The  girl  saw  that  he  was  upset  and  tried  to  restrain 
him. 

"Collar!"  she  cried.  "Hush!  Have  you  gone 
mad?" 

Blaze  had  a  fair  smattering  of  Spanish  and  of  the 
universally  understood  Mexican  idioms  which  the 
Basques  had  adopted,  but  he  was  unable  to  follow  the 
rapid  words  Esteban  continued  to  shower  upon  his 
sister.  He  did  catch  the  reiterated  el  agua  (water), 
and  'cequia  madre  (mother-ditch).  It  meant  only 
one  thing.  The  Basques  did  suspect  their  danger. 

But  Esteban  found  himself  in  quite  the  same  posk 
tion  with  Mercedes  as  did  the  boy  with  the  horn. 
He  had  cried  wolf  so  often  that  his  sister  refused 
to  believe  that  things  were  as  bad  as  he  painted 
them. 

When  her  brother  had  finished,  she  tried  to  tell  him 
that  Blaze  was  a  stranger  and  to  explain  how  he  had 
helped  Basilio  and  her.  Esteban  thanked  Blaze  with 
.some  show  of  gratitude.  He  swung  into  his  saddle 
caught  the  child  up  beside  him.  Mercedes  got  on 


44  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Capitan  's  back.  With  Esteban  leading  the  burro,  they 
started  off. 

"You  come  to  the  hacienda  some  day,"  Basilio 
called  back.  "I  know  where  there  's  lots  of  fish." 

Mercedes  looked  at  her  brother  for  confirmation  of 
the  invitation. 

"You  will  be  welcome  if  you  come,  Senor,"  Esteban, 
answered. 

With  a  tightening  of  the  heart  Blaze  watched  the 
girl  go.  He  tarried  to  roll  a  smoke.  Swimming  had 
lost  its  attraction.  Melody's  talk  came  back  to  haunt 
him.  If  the  freckle-faced  man  was  right,  the  future 
was  black  enough  for  this  girl. 

"Basques  seem  to  have  a  habit  of  always  getting 
the  worst  of  it,"  he  mused. 

It  never  had  mattered  to  him  before.  He  thought 
of  his  own  possible  future  part  in  this  conflict.  His 
mouth  straightened  into  a  grim  smile  as  he  realized 
how  his  being  a  Double  A  man  would  temper  her 
opinion  of  him  when  she  discovered  it.  Yet  what  dif- 
ference would  the  little  weight  that  he  could  throw 
on  either  side  make  ?  If  Acklin  was  intent  on  driving 
out  the  Basques,  he  would  bring  forces  enough  to  win 
without  him. 

There  was  going  to  be  a  fight.  It  was  in  the  air. 
It  meant  something  to  Kildare  now.  He  couldn't 
go  away.  Paradise  Valley  had  a  claim  on  him.  He 
had  not  come  there  by  accident. 

My  Man  reveled  in  the  cool  waters  of  the  Washoe 
as  Blaze  dreamed  on  the  bank.  The  shadows  deep- 
ened. The  man's  mouth  lost  its  hardness.  Old  mem- 


WHISPERING  SAGE  45 

ories  of  home  and  the  brother  he  had  raised  and  lost 
came  to  him. 

"Gee,  kid,"  he  murmured,  "you  M  like  her,  too. 
I  can't  see  her  get  a  raw  deal.  I  suppose  it  's  as 
natural  for  some  men  to  hog  it  all  as  it  is  for  fish  to 
swim,  but  if  anybody  steps  on  her  toes  I  'm  going  to 
get  personal.  I  '11  chalk  that  down  so  I  won't  forget 
it,  either." 

My  Man  stared  at  him  curiously.  Blaze  laughed 
half-heartedly. 

"Old-timer,"  he  said,  "I  guess  I  Ve  gone  crazy. 
But  she  was  sweet,  wasn't  she?" 

He  got  to  his  feet  and  stretched  himself. 

"What  's  the  use?"  he  said  deprecatorily.  "A 
rolling  stone  hasn't  any  business  thinking  such 
things." 


CHAPTER  VI 

QTRETCHED  out  around  the  tiny  fire  in  the  wil- 
O  lows,  heads  pillowed  on  their  saddles,  the  four 
men  waited.  The  long  twilight  was  over.  From  the 
nodding  sage  came  the  sad,  plaintive  cry  of  the 
whippoorwill,  lonely  and  foreboding  in  its  three- 
toned  monotony. 

Punctual,  almost  to  the  minute,  the  night  wind 
came  whispering,  sweet  with  the  fragrance  of  purple 
sage  and  clean  brown  earth.  To  the  eastward  the 
crystalline  peaks  of  the  Santa  Rosas,  fringed  with  a 
delicate  tracery  of  stunted  cedars,  stood  outlined, 
glowing  in  the  witchery  of  the  desert  night.  The 
world  waited  for  the  wonder  they  withheld.  And 
then  suddenly  valley  and  mesa  were  bathed  in  vibrant 
light.  The  round,  heavy,  golden-yellow  moon  hung 
low  above  the  mighty  range;  the  cedars  no  longer 
trees,  but  gossamer  webs  of  silver. 

Skip  yawned  and  got  to  his  feet. 

"Late  enough/7  he  sighed.  "The  moon  's  up. 
Let's  go !" 

In  Indian  file  they  left  the  shelter  of  the  trees. 
Half  an  hour  later  they  forded  the  Little  Washoe 
and  held  north  for  the  dry  wash  of  the  Webster. 

The  ghost-like  willows  that  lined  the  old  wash 
rustled  and  creaked  in  the  wind ;  but  the  kindly  moon 
had  touched  their  limbs  with  its  magic. 

46 


WHISPERING  SAGE  47 

Skip  held  up  his  hand. 

"That  fringe  of  dead  willows  marks  the  wash, 
Kildare.  Melody,  you  side  him  east  aways.  Better 
let  him  stick  around  Rebel  Creek.  It  's  the  least 
likely  place  for  any  one  to  come  through.  Chet  will 
trail  me.  I  '11  hang  out  around  the  Winnemucca 
road.  If  we  have  any  trouble,  it  11  be  there- 
freighter  or  somethin'.  I  11  drop  Chet  about  half- 
way over." 

He  turned  to  Chet. 

"You  and  Melody  keep  in  touch  with  each  other 
You  can  see  a  long  ways  in  this  light.  Come  on ! ' ' 

He  wheeled  his  horse  and  loped  off  after  the  reced 
ing  Chet.     Blaze  and  Melody  jogged  on.     The  red 
haired  one  was  quiet,  serious.    Kildare  had  said  noth* 
ing  about  meeting  Mercedes,  but  he  had  thought  ot 
little  else  ever  since.     A  rabbit  scurried  across  the 
trail  ahead  of  them.    Melody  came  up  alert,  his  hand 
on  his  gun.    Blaze  smiled. 

"Even  a  rabbit  scares  you  to-night,  eh?" 

Melody  shivered.    "Just  fidgety,"  he  grumbled. 

They  rode  into  a  little  arroyo.  Blaze  snapped  a 
match  with  his  thumb. 

"Take  a  squint  at  this  picture,  Melody.  Is  that 
Bodine?" 

Melody  shook  his  head.  He  took  the  photograph 
in  his  own  hands. 

"Nope,"  he  repeated.  "Nature  didn't  spare  him 
any  either,  did  she?"  he  chuckled.  "No!  This  fel- 
low Bodine  is  tall  and  wiry.  About  the  size  of  the 
Big  Boss." 


48  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  match  flared  out. 

"Say,"  he  asked,  "what  made  you  think  that  was 
Bodine?" 

"Nothing.    Just  a  chance. " 

They  rode  on  without  speaking  for  a  spell. 

"You  aimin'  to  meet  up  with  that  bird?" 

Blaze  nodded.    "I  'd  sure  admire  to  do  that." 

"Humph!    It 's  a  big  country." 

"I  got  lots  of  time." 

Ten  minutes  later  they  came  to  Rebel  Creek.  Mel- 
ody lay  down  to  drink  his  fill  for  the  night. 

"Here  's  the  source  of  all  evil,"  he  punned.  "We 
own  all  this  valley  above  the  old  Webster ;  every  foot 
of  it.  And  back  of  those  ranges?  Say,  man,  you  could 
ride  for  a  week  before  you  got  through  seein '  Double 
A  steers."  Melody  threw  away  his  half -burnt 
cigarette.  "Guess  I  '11  fan  it  back.  You  meet  me 
every  now  and  anon,  in  that  little  arroyo  where  you 
flashed  the  picture." 

Blaze  got  out  of  his  saddle.  A  rock  for  a  back- 
rest, he  sat  in  the  shelter  of  the  willows  and  smoked. 
Melody  faded  away  in  the  distance.  My  Man  munched 
the  tender,  green  grass,  which  grew  lush  in  the  creek- 
bottom.  Minutes  dragged  by  and  no  one  came.  He 
yawned  and  nodded.  The  sound  of  the  browsing  horse 
always  prevented  him  from  falling  asleep. 

Time  after  time  he  met  Melody  in  the  arroyo. 
Nothing  happened  to  break  the  monotony  of  their 
vigil.  The  moon  rode  high.  Blaze  knew  it  was  near- 
ing  midnight.  Innumerable  cigarettes  had  parched 
his  throat.  When  he  reached  the  creek  again  he  got 


WHISPERING  SAGE  49 

down  to  drink ;  but  the  water,  which  had  been  so  clear 
and  cold,  was  muddy  to  the  taste.  He  struck  a  match. 
He  could  see  that  his  tongue  had  not  deceived  him. 
Some  one  had  crossed  the  stream  above  him! 

Blaze  listened.  The  wind  bore  him  no  sound. 
Quickly  and  silently  he  broke  open  his  rifle.  The 
breach  slid  in  and  out  in  its  oiled  perfection.  He 
snapped  it  shut.  Ten  seconds  later  man  and  horse 
picked  their  way  upstream. 

It  was  pitch-black  in  the  willows  and  brush-filled 
creek-bottom;  but  it  would  have  been  foolhardy  to 
risk  the  open.  He  knew  he  would  be  visible  at  close 
to  three  hundred  yards  in  that  light. 

Blaze  figured  he  had  come  half  a  mile  or  more 
when  My  Man  stumbled.  Any  but  a  Western  horse 
would  have  been  down.  He  slid  to  the  ground,  rifle 
in  hand,  and  went  on,  knowing  his  horse  would  be 
waiting  there  if  he  returned.  Another  hundred  yards 
and  he  stopped.  Was  it  the  fallacious  breath  of  the 
night  wind  or  his  own  ears  that  had  deceived  him 
into  hearing  the  sound  of  shod  steel  grating  on  rock 
and  gravel?  Intently  he  listened  ...  a  pause  .  .  . 
and  then,  clear  and  unmistakable,  it  came  again. 

Kildare  felt  his  pulse  quicken.  He  edged  to  the 
moonlight.  Not  a  hundred  yards  away  loomed  the 
whitened  trees  which  stood  beside  the  old  Webster 
wash.  He  sensed  from  the  contour  of  the  country 
that  the  creek-bottom  widened  out  here.  A  low  mesa 
rose  between  him  and  the  dead  trees.  He  correctly 
reasoned  that  this  barrier  had  caused  that  widening, 
the  water  swinging  around  to  pass  it. 


50  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Flat  on  all  fours  he  crouched  as  he  crawled  to  the 
mesa's  rim.  He  was  twenty  feet  above  the  water. 
Cautiously  he  peered  over.  His  breath  stopped. 
Right  below  him  seven  men  toiled  in  the  water.  Rebel 
Creek  was  being  dammed! 

The  face  of  the  mesa  threw  the  creek-bottom  into 
shadow.  Some  one  spoke.  The  voice  was  familiar. 
He  craned  his  neck  to  hear.  Too  late  he  knew  his 
mistake.  The  vagrant  night  wind  eddying  on  the 
canon  wall  laid  heavy  hands  on  his  sombrero  and  sent 
it  sailing  down  upon  the  heads  of  the  men  below. 
The  weight  of  the  little  gun  inside  the  hat  made  it 
drop  like  a  shot.  A  surprised  voice  retreated  from 
its  blow.  Kildare  knew  he  was  discovered.  Cries  of 
rage  and  anger  came  up  to  him.  His  rifle  crawled 
out  beyond  the  crest,  black  and  ominous  to  those 
below. 

"Freeze  where  you  are/'  he  cried.  "With  his  left 
hand  he  drew  his  six-gun  and  fired  the  three  shots 
that  would  bring  Melody  and  Chet  rushing  to  his 
side.  Below  him  one  sought  to  steal  away. 

" Listen  to  me,"  he  purred  in  dulcet  tones,  "I  11 
bust  the  first  one  of  you  that  moves,  and  I  don't  care 
how  soon  you  start  running." 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  Melody  dashed  across 
the  mesa.  He  saw  Kildare  with  rifle  to  his  shoulder. 

"What  is  it?"  he  said  huskily. 

"Come  here  and  see." 

"That  's  pretty,  ain't  it?"  Melody  growled.  "Say, 
•who  in  hell  are  you  fellows?" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  voice  that  rolled  up 


WHISPERING  SAGE  51 

in  answer  to  the  red-haired  one's  question.  It  was 
Morrow 's.  He  was  thoroughly  angry.  ' '  Melody, ' '  he 
roared,  "who  's  that  fool  up  there  with  the  gun?" 

Blaze  and  Melody  exchanged  glances. 

"It  's  me,  Kildare,"  the  former  shot  back.  "I 
did  n't  know  I  was  making  you  sit  so  nice  and  pretty." 

"My  God!"  Cash  groaned.  "Held  up  by  my  own 
man!  What  are  you  doin'  here?" 

Blaze  explained  about  the  water.  The  laugh  was 
on  Morrow.  "Well,  you  get  back  to  the  willows  and 
stay  there.  All  this  damn  fool  shootin'  is  likely  to 
wake  up  somebody." 

The  two  men  rode  away  together.  Melody  shook 
his  head.  ' '  I  had  it  sized  up  about  right,  I  guess. ' ' 

"Did  you  recognize  the  others?" 

' '  Sure !  Bodine  's  crowd.  The  big  fellow  was 
Bodine.  The  batalla  grande  is  about  to  begin." 

Blaze  stared  ahead.  "I  suppose  the  Basques  will 
be  bumping  into  us  in  the  early  dawn. ' ' 

"No,  they  won't  know  what  they  've  lost  till  morn- 
in'.  I  heard  once  that  they  had  a  ginny  hired  to 
measure  the  water  they  ought  to  get. ' ' 

Blaze  smiled  half-heartedly. 

"Well,  he  '11  be  like  the  coon  in  ' Othello';  he  11 
find  his  occupation  gone." 

The  weary-eyed  Kildare  waited  out  the  hours.  No 
one  tried  to  get  past  him.  It  got  to  be  five  o'clock  and 
yet  the  sky  held  only  the  murky  gray  the  stars  had 
left  as  they  winked  out.  It  grew  cold  in  the  creek- 
bottom.  My  Man  moved  about  restlessly.  To  the 
east,  black  clouds  sailed  low  above  the  range.  A  drop 


52  WHISPERING  SAGE 

of  rain  splashed  against  his  face.  Even  before  he 
had  produced  his  tarpaulin  from  his  cached  bed-roll, 
the  rain  came  down  in  earnest;  cold  and  blood-chill- 
ing in  a  way  that  only  the  mountain-desert  knows. 

Sitting  in  his  saddle,  his  tarp  about  him,  he  warmed 
enough  to  smile  at  this  break  of  fortune  for  the 
Double  A.  Rain  in  this  country  was  the  great  eradi- 
cator. 

And  while  Kildare  smiled  so  grimly,  Acklin,  Bo- 
dine,  and  the  solemn-eyed  Cash  laughed  aloud.  Every 
drop  of  rain  was  as  manna  from  heaven.  It  was  the 
last  touch  needed  to  make  their  work  as  flawless  as 
the  black  art  of  the  devil. 

"What  a  godsend,"  Bodine  cried,  without  a  trace 
of  irony. 

"No,"  Acklin  murmured  unpleasantly,  "it 's  the 
luck  of  the  wicked:  it  's  always  good." 

"Let  them  prove  their  case  now,"  Buck  sang. 
"Why,  we  don't  even  need  that  fence." 

"Well,  it  will  go  up  just  the  same,"  the  sleepy  Ack- 
lin mumbled. 

In  the  ranch  yard,  a  line  of  heavy  freighting- 
wagons  were  lined  up,  piled  high  with  fence- wire  and 
posts.  From  the  direction  of  the  long  barns  came 
the  teams,  whiffle-tree  chains  jangling  on  the  flinty 
ground,  and  rising  above  the  clatter,  the  sharp,  im- 
patient cursing  of  a  sorely  tried  teamster. 

The  foreman  closed  his  watch  with  a  click.  "We  11 
move  in  twenty  minutes.  Better  get  a  bite  now," 
he  said  to  Bodine. 

It  was  long  after  seven  when  Blaze  saw  Cash  and 


WHISPERING  SAGE  53 

Bodine  ride  into  sight.  The  rain  had  stopped,  but  the 
sky  still  held  sullen  and  gray.  Kildare  recognized 
the  man  with  Morrow.  In  an  indefinable  way  there 
was  something  vaguely  familiar  about  him.  Blaze 
wondered  if  the  other  man  felt  it  too,  because  they 
scrutinized  each  other  closely  before  Cash  spoke : 

"The  wagon  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes.  "Widget 
will  stir  up  some  breakfast.  Brent  will  relieve  you. 
I  11  send  Melody  and  the  rest  of  them  back  here. 
When  you  all  have  eaten,  you  can  drift  home  and 
roll  in.  Skip  will  fix  you  up.  Say,  it  's  a  wonder  you 
did  n  't  bump  off  somebody  last  night,  Kildare. ' ' 

"I  wasn't  even  nervous,  Cash.  I  'm  slow  on  the 
trigger;  but  I  aim  to  be  pretty  efficient  when  I  get 
started/' 

"Your  path  will  be  covered  with  roses  if  you  11 
only  remember  to  keep  your  eyes  open  and  your 
mouth  shut.  It  's  my  way  of  judging  whether  a 
man  is  worth  his  salt  or  not.  I  fancy  you  11  do  to 
take  along." 

The  boys  rode  up  at  that  instant,  closely  followed 
by  the  heaving  wagon.  Cash  jogged  over  to  see  it 
safely  across  the  creek.  Bodine  offered  Blaze  a 
cigarette. 

"Cash  told  me  about  your  part  in  that  little  show 
last  night,"  he  laughed.  "You  must  have  given  the 
boys  a  thrill." 

Bodine 's  cordiality  grated  on  Blaze.  For  a  brief 
second  Kildare  had  thought  the  big  man  might  be 
Acklin;  but  Cash  would  have  made  that  known  in- 
stantly. Blaze  was  tired  and  sour  on  the  world  after 


54  WHISPERING  SAGE 

the  long  stretch;  and  the  sight  of  this  individual's 
pleasure  in  the  morning,  as  well  as  a  sudden  inbred 
dislike  for  the  man,  led  him  to  fire  away  at  a  guess : 

1  'You  were  there  then?" 

Bodine  stared  at  him  for  a  while  before  his  jaw 
relaxed. 

" Don't  be  so  positive.    I  'm  not  a  Double  A  man." 

"Now  that  makes  my  vote  unanimous,"  Blaze 
drawled.  "That  little  show  was  strictly  a  family 
party.  I  don't  guess  Cash  would  be  exactly  talkative 
about  it." 

The  threat  and  implication  were  not  lost  on  Bodine ; 
but  he  chose  to  ignore  them.  Quite  cleverly  he  re- 
treated from  his  position  by  the  means  of  bluff  cama- 
raderie. 

"We  '11  see  quite  a  lot  of  each  other  in  the  next 
few  weeks,"  he  went  on,  "so  I  11  backwater  on  my 
whereabouts.  I  'm  Buck  Bodine.  I  bought  the  old 
Webster  place  a  while  back.  You  can  guess  where 
we  line  up." 

Cash  joined  them,  and  he  and  Bodine  went  on. 
Blaze  ambled  over  to  where  Widget  was  going 
through  the  motions  that  meant  breakfast  for  him. 
The  new  hand  was  looked  over  by  the  boys,  and,  with 
the  freemasonry  of  the  cow-country,  was  given  a  nod 
and  a  greeting.  Right  or  wrong,  these  men  stuck  by 
their  first  likes  and  dislikes.  Brother  Jones,  timeworn 
but  still  effective,  chewed  the  ends  of  his  mustache. 

"Say,  son,"  he  mumbled,  "they  's  no  hell  like  a 
cowboy  hell,  as  it  would  seem  you  have  lived  to  learn ; 


WHISPERING  SAGE  55 

but  this  outfit  will  add  to  your  education.  I  am  quite 
won  to  you  by  your  kindly  eye.  It  's  a  full  month 
to  pay-day.  Seek  my  advice  often  and  with  consid- 
eration, if  you  would  prosper.  In  me  you  see  a  man 
bent  with  age,  and  penniless,  too,  because  of  these 
young  thieves.  They  draw  their  pay  from  the  Double 
A,  but  they  work  the  double-cross.  Oh,  yes,  they 
do!" 

Cries  of  "Liar!"  and  "Amen!"  greeted  this 
speech. 

"Come  and  git  it,"  Widget  bawled.  Brent  cut  out 
from  the  bunch,  and  the  others  paced  away.  Having 
eaten  his  fill,  Blaze  crawled  under  the  wagon  to 
sleep. 

The  sun  was  out  and  riding  high  by  the  time  the 
four  men  headed  for  home.  Half  a  mile  east  of  the 
creek  they  met  the  fencing  gang.  There  was  no  lost 
motion  here.  No  sooner  were  the  holes  dug  than  the 
cedar  posts  were  in  place.  Another  man  tamped 
down  the  ground  around  them.  Drums  of  wire  were 
mounted  on  a  wagon.  The  teamster  would  cluck  to 
his  horses;  the  wagon  would  move  ahead,  the  drums 
would  revolve,  and  the  busy  hammers  would  send  the 
staples  home.  There  was  art  in  its  precision. 

Noontime  brought  Blaze  to  the  Bull's  Head.  No 
sign  of  rain  lingered.  It  was  hot.  Green  bottleflies 
droned  in  the  white,  plastered  rooms  above.  Mac- 
Gregor,  the  ranch  blacksmith,  was  busy  at  his  forge ; 
but  for  him  the  Bull's  Head  appeared  to  slumber. 

Melody  had  been  silent  for  an  hour,  but  as  they 
tramped  up  the  stairs,  the  nearness  of  a  comfortable 


56  WHISPERING  SAGE 

bed  awakened  life  within  him.    In  a  mournful  voice 
he  bawled  one  of  his  saddest  numbers : 

I  lost  my  watch, 
I  lost  my  ring, 
I  lost  my  wife 
And  everything; 
Oh,  I  got  bad  luck. 
Oh,  I  ... 

The  agony  of  his  song  brought  Acklin  to  the  door. 
He  saw  his  new  man.  "That  you,  Kildare?"  he 
asked.  "Step  in  here  a  minute."  The  cut  of  Kil- 
dare's  fighting  jaw,  his  poise,  and  his  calm,  unemo- 
tional eyes  told  Acklin  plainer  than  words  that  here 
was  a  buzz-saw  when  aroused ;  a  man  without  excuses, 
hard-headed,  and  at  his  best  when  unbossed. 

"Kildare,"  he  began,  "Cash  says  he  fancies  you. 
I  've  rarely  ever  found  him  mistaken.  We  're  going 
to  have  trouble  in  the  valley  from  now  on.  I  want 
you  to  know  where  I  stand.  I  ask  no  man  to  do  for 
me  what  I  wouldn't  do  myself.  It  's  the  rule  on 
which  this  ranch  is  run.  My  father  once  said  to  me : 
'I  hate  orders  and  the  giving  of  them,  but  sometimes 
they  are  necessary.  And  the  man  who  can't  take 
them  without  asking  why  is  no  fit  man  to  have.'  I  've 
never  found  anything  but  wisdom  in  those  words." 

This  was  a  tacit  admission  on  Acklin 's  part  that 
Blaze  knew  what  had  happened  at  the  fork  of  the 
Webster.  Kildare  felt  the  question  behind  the  words. 
He  knew  Acklin  was  asking  him  where  he  stood  as 
plainly  as  though  he  had  said  so.  Covertly  the  Big 
Boss  watched  his  new  man's  face  and  saw  a  shadow 
of  impatience  cross  it. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  57 

"I  guess  I  understand  you,  sir/1  Blaze  stated. 

The  "sir"  was  his  way  of  showing  that  he  had  no 
liking  for  the  lack  of  frankness  in  the  Big  Boss.  He 
meant  it  to  mark  a  difference  between  them,  of  his 
making,  and  not  Acklin's. 

"I  'm  glad  you.  do."  Acklin  sensed  the  intent  of 
that  "sir."  "You  get  some  sleep  now.  I  11  call  you 
about  five.  I  want  you  to  go  into  Paradise  to-night, 
just  to  hear  the  news.  You  're  a  stranger;  you  '11  be 
safe.  I  want  to  know  what  the  talk  is.  I  '11  have 
a  message  for  Bodine,  too.  No  trouble  finding  the 
place." 


CHAPTER  VII 

UNDER  orders,  Kildare  took  the  road  that  led 
through  the  foot-hills  to  the  river.  Keeping 
to  the  south  bank,  he  followed  it  until  he  came  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Rebel.  The  wide  shoal  of  sand  the  creek 
had  carried  there,  the  round,  well-polished  boulders, 
and  the  deep  marks  of  erosion  in  granite  outcroppings 
told  plainly  enough  that  this  had  been  a  turbulent 
stream  in  the  past.  But  now  he  could  have  stopped 
with  his  hands  the  trickle  of  water  that  wound  through 
the  dry  sand. 

Purposely  he  struck  west  below  the  Rancho  until 
he  came  upon  the  well-traveled  road  that  led  into 
Paradise.  It  was  the  time  of  day  when  the  ranchers 
in  the  valley  were  in  the  habit  of  going  into  town. 
More  than  one  passed,  giving  Blaze  a  curt  nod  and  a 
searching  glance  that  was  less  than  friendly.  Be- 
fore he  reached  the  village  he  had  met  so  many  men 
that  there  could  be  no  question  what  was  bringing 
them  in. 

The  town  consisted  of  two  general  stores,  a  tiny, 
white  church,  a  broken-down,  third-rate  hotel,  and 
three  saloons.  About  half  a  dozen  buildings  with 
store-fronts  flanked  the  others  on  the  main  street. 
They  had  long  since  failed  to  house  any  profitable 

68 


WHISPERING  SAGE  59 

business  and  were  now  occupied  as  dwellings.  Fifty 
or  more  small  frame  houses  backed  up  this  array. 

Three  hundred  yards  north  of  the  town  a  shallow1 
creek,  a  tiny  branch  of  the  Webster,  cut  across  the 
road.  Except  after  a  heavy  rain,  or  in  the  early 
spring  when  the  winter  snow  was  going  off,  it  was 
dry.  Springs  alone  could  account  for  the  rank  growth 
of  cottonwoods  and  poplars  that  hedged  it  in.  In 
the  lea  of  these  trees  the  Mexicans,  who  worked  out 
during  the  haying,  or  on  the  roads  at  irregular  inter- 
vals, had  their  homes. 

Blaze  reined  up  in  front  of  Chase's  store.  The 
post-office  was  located  there.  Seven  or  eight  men 
lounged  on  the  planked  sidewalk  in  front  of  it.  He 
gave  them  a  nod  and  went  in  to  drop  his  letters.  Old 
man  Chase  and  his  sons  were  busy,  so  that  he  passed 
out  unnoticed. 

Benavides's  place  was  down  the  street  several  doors. 
A  small  crowd  stood  before  it.  Half  an  hour  ago 
these  Basques,  excitable  like  all  Southern  races,  had 
been  noisy  enough.  They  were  glum  now  and  silent 
only  because  they  had  talked  themselves  out. 

The  loss  of  the  water  had  been  discovered  before 
noon.  Several  of  them,  Esteban  included,  had  ridden 
up  the  creek  to  find  the  cause.  They  had  not  gone 
far  before  they  ran  into  the  Double  A  wire.  Brother 
Jones  had  been  waiting  on  the  other  side  of  it.  He 
was  hardly  hospitable. 

When  they  had  sought  to  crawl  under  the  fence, 
he  had  waved  his  gun  with  an  alarming  lack  of  re- 
gard for  their  safety. 


60  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"No,  no,  nada,  amigos,"  he  had  cried.  "Yon 
want  to  watch  out,  cuidado!  I  'm  sorry;  but  I  ain't 
foolish." 

They  had  tried  to  engage  him  in  •further  talk  but 
he  had  told  them  to  go  to  Acklin,  and  to  several  other 
destinations  more  remote.  As  a  consequence,  the 
Double  A,  and  not  Bodine,  had  become  the  object  of 
their  hatred.  Remembering  the  past,  it  was  not  hard 
for  them  to  lay  this  new  outrage  at  Acklin 's  door. 
But  like  the  sheep  they  owned,  they  needed  a  leader 
before  they  could  strike  back.  Some  of  them  had 
been  in  town  all  afternoon,  drinking  and  cursing  their 
luck.  But  whisky,  contrary  to  the  rules  affecting 
most  people,  only  seemed  to  calm  them  and  make 
them  more  determined  to  fight  for  their  rights.  In 
this  they  showed  how  greatly  they  differed  from  the 
Mexicans  especially,  with  whom  they  were  often  con- 
fused. 

Blaze  found  the  saloon  filled.  At  a  table  six  men 
played  cards.  They  were  the  only  ones  present  who 
seemed  untouched  by  the  general  air  of  disaster. 

Blaze  bought  a  drink.  He  understood  very  little 
of  the  conversation  going  on  about  him;  but  that 
these  men  were  worked  up  and  only  awaited  a  leader, 
he  did  not  doubt  for  a  moment. 

The  card-game  ended.  Blaze  caught  the  reflection 
of  the  players  in  the  fly-specked  mirror  over  the  back- 
bar. 

"You  boys  are  too  dod-gasted  lucky  for  me,"  the 
smallest  of  them  cackled.  "I  been  going  for  the  case- 
card  every  time." 


WHISPERING  SAGE  61 

Benavides  had  been  sitting  in.  He  smiled  at  the 
man  in  the  faded  clothes.  Faded  was  the  correct 
word.  His  trousers  were  baggy;  his  hat  warped  out 
of  shape,  the  band  of  it  raveled  and  wind-whipped; 
but  one  forgot  these  and  remembered  only  the  lack 
of  color  in  him.  Everything  he  wore  seemed  to  have 
settled  into  a  sedate  greenish-gray;  that  is,  save  for 
his  eyes.  They  still  held  their  hazel  hue. 

11  Joe,"  the  Basque  called,  as  the  little  man  got  upr 
"have  a  drink  on  the  house  before  you  go.  It  's  time 
for  a  celebration  when  you  lose." 

Blaze  moved  over,  and  the  faded  one  edged  into 
the  bar  beside  him. 

"I  '11  call  that  bluff,"  he  cawed.  "I  was  a  child 
when  you  set  'em  up  the  last  time,  you  old  tight- 
wad." 

In  the  mirror,  Blaze  could  see  that  he  had  caught 
the  little  man's  attention.  It  was  half  dark  in  the 
saloon,  but  he  sensed  the  alertness  in  the  other's  eyes. 
Blaze  reached  for  his  glass  to  finish  his  drink. 

"Well,  if  it  ain't  old  Timberline,"  the  little  man 
exclaimed. 

The  sound  of  his  old  nom  de  guerre  caused  Blaze 
to  freeze  with  his  glass  in  midair.  Until  that  second 
he  would  have  staked  his  life  that  no  man  north  of 
the  Humboldt  could  have  called  him  by  that  name. 

Blaze  set  his  drink  down  and  turned  to  scrutinize 
his  neighbor.  Recognition  came  quickly. 

"Joe  Kent!"  he  cried.  "What  are  you  doing  way- 
over  here,  Tuscarora?" 


62  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Why,  I  been  over  this-a-ways  some  time.  What 
you  doin'  here?" 

Blaze  smiled  and  winked  an  eye  at  him. 

"Side  me  out  of  town  a  ways  and  I  11  let  you 
guess.  But  lay  off  that  Timberline.  It  belongs  in  my 
wicked  past.  I  'm  headed  for  Webster  Creek.  That 
out  of  your  way?" 

Benavides  waved  him  good-by  as  he  and  Blaze  left. 
Tuscarora  was  a  fixture  in  the  valley.  He  had  won 
his  sobriquet  placering  over  in  the  Tuscarora  Range. 
His  experiences  there  were  only  a  small  part  of  his 
education.  For  forty  years  he  had  roamed  the  desert. 
It  had  been  his  boast  that  he  had  missed  only  one  gold 
rush  in  twenty  years.  He  knew  the  old  camps  like 
Virginia  City  and  Austin,  as  well  as  the  more  recent 
ones  at  Rawhide  and  Bullfrog. 

In  his  time  he  had  worked  at  all  the  odd  jobs  the 
desert  knows;  freighting,  running  a  stage-line,  being 
a  government  trapper — all  these  had  occupied  differ- 
ent periods  in  his  life.  He  had  put  in  one  winter  as 
a  station-agent  down  in  Esmeralda  County. 

Although  he  lived  in  town  he  owned  a  small  ranch 
on  the  Little  Washoe.  But  for  him  the  hotel  would 
have  closed,  Joe  being  its  only  regular  guest.  Old 
man  Pasquale,  the  proprietor,  refused  to  dispossess 
him. 

"What 's  on,  son?"  he  asked,  when  they  had 
crossed  the  little  bridge  north  of  town.  "You  acted 
back  there  as  if  I  had  handed  you  a  jolt." 

"You  sure  gave  me  a  surprise,"  Blaze  admitted. 
"You  heard  about  the  Kid,  I  suppose?" 


WHISPERING  SAGE  63 

"Yeh!  Too  bad!  That  ain't  bringin'  you  over 
here,  is  it?" 

"It 's  taken  me  a  lot  of  places.  I  hired  out  to  the 
Double  A  yesterday." 

"Yeh?"  There  was  frank  disbelief  in  Kent's  eyes. 
"What  else?" 

* '  Nothing  much.  Just  that  and  the  Kid.  I  have  n  't 
forgotten  him." 

"Now  looka  here,  Blaze!"  Joe  exclaimed  as  he 
pulled  up  his  horse.  "You  don  't  belong  in  this 
fuss.  And  it  's  gonna  be  a  fuss.  There  '11  be  killin' 
before  it  's  through.  Acklin  's  over  his  head.  As 
long  as  it  don  't  mean  anythin'  to  you,  why  not  get 
out  of  it?" 

"I  'm  playing  a  hunch;  that 's  all!  I  've  got  to 
see  it  through.  Anyway,  Joe,  I  never  was  much  of  a 
hand  at  running  away." 

"Course  not.  You  11  get  killed  yet.  Why  don  't 
you  marry  and  settle  down?" 

The  telltale  twinkle  came  into  Blaze's  eyes. 

"Is  that  what  you  Ve  done?" 

"There  you  are,"  Tuscarora  scolded.  "You  never 
answered  a  straight  question  in  all  your  life." 

"They  take  the  loss  of  the  water  pretty  bad  back 
there,  don't  they?"  Blaze  countered,  jabbing  in  the 
direction  of  Paradise. 

"How  'd  you  take  the  loss  of  your  bank-roll  and 
three  squares  a  day?  I  'm  no  outsider  in  this.  I  've 
got  a  little  place  on  the  river.  I  know  what  it 's 
going  to  do  to  me." 

Blaze  shook  his  head  thoughtfully. 


64  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"I  didn't  think  these  Basques  had  a  chance.  Of 
course  if  you  're  going  to  string  along  with  them, 
you  old  weasel,  they  may  get  somewhere.  But  re- 
member, I  'm  no  man 's  man  but  my  own  when  it  gets 
down  to  scratch.  I  'm  not  going  to  back  out.  You  're 
the  only  man  in  this  country  that  knows  me.  You 
forget  Timberline  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  Tuscarora. 
I  'm  just  Blaze  Kildare  now." 

''You  never  give  up,  do  yuh?"  Kent  exclaimed. 
"I  know  how  you  feel,  Blaze ;  but  two  years  is  a  long 
time  to  stick  to  one  idea.  It  's  goin'  to  be  tough  to 
see  us  lined  up  against  each  other ;  and  that  's  what 
it  's  goin'  to  mean.  This  won't  be  any  children's 
party.  Acklin  can't  rob  us  that-a-ways. " 

They  rode  on  for  a  mile  or  more  before  Blaze  spoke. 

"Why  don't  you  take  the  thing  to  court?  This  is 
still  the  United  States,  isn't  it?  You've  got  the 
law." 

"Law?"  Joe  mocked.  "The  country  is  smeared 
with  it;  but  it  's  all  made  for  the  other  fellow.  But 
don't  you  fret.  We  '11  get  started.  I  '11  have  every 
man- jack  in  the  valley  down  to  the  Rancho  Buena 
Vista  to-morrow  night.  I  '11  see  to  it,  too,  that  we 
don't  make  any  small-town  affair  of  this  row.  I  been 
•county  commissioner  twice.  I  know  how  Acklin  's 
got  things  tied  up  around  here.  He  's  strong  enough 
down  in  Carson,  too.  But  I  '11  take  a  lot  of  beating 
before  I  'm  dead.  Election  's  coming  on  soon.  Tom 
Brand  is  out  for  district  attorney  down  in  Winne- 
mucca.  Acklin  and  the  Anaconda  Cattle  Co.  may 
beat  him.  Still,  he  's  got  a  following.  Folks  have 


WHISPERING  SAGE  65 

had  about  enough  of  your  San  Francisco  millionaires. 
These  big  ranches  will  be  broken  up  some  day.  Then 
this  State  will  amount  to  something.  I  know  this 
country  better  than  most.  You  wait!  We  '11  bring1 
water  here  all  the  way  from  the  south  fork  of  the 
Owyhee  when  these  big  holdings  have  been  cut  up. 
If  you  was  a  decent  law-abiding  citizen  with  four  or 
five  kids,  you  might  be  interested/' 

They  had  almost  reached  the  road  where  Blaze 
was  to  turn  to  the  left.  Tuscarora's  words  brought 
back  to  Kildare  a  picture  of  Mercedes.  The  thought 
of  what  she  faced  stiffened  him. 

The  little  man  caught  the  click  of  his  friend's  jaws. 

" Don't  shoot!"  he  mimicked.  "I  didn't  know  I 
was  riding  you  so  hard.  There  's  your  road,  old- 
timer." 

Joe's  jocularity  brought  the  smile  back  to  Blaze's 
face. 

"Anyway,"  he  laughed,  "I  won't  shoot  in  the 
back." 

"That 's  why  I  wonder  how  you  and  Acklin  are 
going  to  get  along.  That  surprises  you,  eh?  Well, 
you  wait  till  he  gets  pressed.  I  knew  his  old  man ;  so 
I  wouldn't  put  anything  past  his  son." 

Tuscarora  bit  off  a  piece  of  his  tobacco  by  way  of 
saying  good-by. 

"And  just  so  you  won't  get  to  thinking  that  I  'm 
ready  for  the  junk-pile,"  he  went  on,  "let  me  tell 
you  that  your  friend  Bodine  is  in  this  deal  up  to  his 
neck.  But  he  's  only  a  stool-pigeon  for  the  Double  A. 
The  Basques  blame  it  all  on  Acklin."  Joe  shook  his 


66  WHISPERING  SAGE 

head.  "  Pretty  foxy  of  him  to  send  a  dummy  out 
to  buy  in  the  place  and  hold  it  down  until  the  Double 
A  could  turn  the  water  on.  I  '11  bet  Acklin  's  got 
a  deed  for  that  ranch  in  his  safe  this  minute.  If  he 
hain't,  this  Buck  Bodine  will  wake  up  some  morn- 
ing to  find  himself  chasing  his  own  tail. ' ' 

They  drew  apart.    Blaze  waved  his  hand. 

"You  come  see  me  some  time,  Blaze,"  Tuscarora 
called.  "You  always  got  an  ace  in  the  hole  in  me." 


CHAPTER  VIU 

BLAZE  jogged  on.     When  he  turned  a  moment 
later  to  look  back,  Tuscarora  had  become  a  gray 
blur  on  the  swaying  sage. 

"Just  the  same  old  bag  of  bones  he  used  to  be," 
he  murmured  wistfully.  "Kid  always  liked  him, 
too." 

Pictures  of  Laramie,  Yellowstone  Park,  Washakie 
Needles,  the  Buffalo  Fork  of  the  Snake,  and  memories 
of  the  winning  fights  they  had  been  through  together 
filled  Blaze 's  mind  and  made  him  oblivious  to  his  sur- 
roundings. He  came  up  with  a  start  when  My  Man's 
feet  splashed  through  water. 

Webster  Creek  paralleled  the  road  about  three 
hundred  yards  to  the  north.  Blaze  headed  his  horse 
for  it. 

He  found  the  creek  running  over  its  banks.  The 
adjacent  soil  had  become  so  thoroughly  dried  out 
during  its  ten  years'  drought  that  the  rush  of  water 
ate  into  it  voraciously,  and  in  some  places  the  banks 
had  crumbled  away  entirely. 

Blaze  got  back  on  the  road,  musing  as  he  went 
along  on  the  Aladdin-like  effect  of  last  night's  work. 
He  continued  to  see  evidences  of  it  time  after  time. 
My  Man's  hoofs  kicked  up  a  spray  in  at  least  a  dozen 
places  before  Blaze  sighted  the  buildings  of  the  Web- 
ster ranch. 

67 


68  WHISPERING  SAGE 

It  was  late  twilight  when  he  walked  his  horse  into 
Bodine's  yard.  Webster  Creek  cut  across  it  between 
house  and  barn.  The  place  being  new  to  him,  he 
stopped  momentarily  before  crossing  the  stream. 

The  incongruity  of  all  this  water,  without  sign  of 
living  green  thing,  shrieked  aloud.  Ahead  of  him 
the  house  bulked  dark  and  silent.  From  its  windows 
came  no  ray  of  lamp  or  candle.  Blaze  thought  it 
strange  that  the  place  should  be  deserted  at  this  time 
of  the  evening.  He  sent  My  Man  prancing  through 
the  water  and  was  about  to  cry  out  to  see  if  he  could 
arouse  any  one  when  a  short,  bandy-legged  shadow 
detached  itself  from  the  blackness  of  the  house  and 
dashed  madly  for  the  barn. 

Instinctively  Blaze  reached  for  his  gun.  It  was 
plain  to  him  that  the  noise  of  his  horse 's  feet  had  sur- 
prised the  man  into  his  precipitous  flight.  Kildaro 
had  caught  only  a  brief  glimpse  of  him.  Recognition 
was  impossible  in  the  light  that  held.  Nevertheless 
Blaze  felt  his  muscles  tense  as  he  tried  to  recall  the 
figure  of  the  man.  He  could  not  forget  the  shadow's 
legs.  They  were  too  peculiar,  and  the  picture  of  them 
remained  in  his  mind  as  a  definite  thing.  He  would 
have  pursued  the  thought  further ;  but  a  voice  boomed 
out  from  the  steps  of  the  house  asking  what  he 
wanted.  Blaze  recognized  it  for  Bodine's. 

"I  Ve  got  a  letter  for  you/7  Blaze  answered. 
"ThisisKildare." 

"Come  ahead!    I  '11  light  a  lamp." 

Blaze  grinned.  The  place  was  waking  up  with  a 
vengeance.  He  saw  a  match  flicker  in  the  kitchen. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  69 

Bodine  had  the  lamp  lighted  by  the  time  Blaze  dis- 
mounted. 

"You  didn't  come  through  Paradise?"  the  rancher 
asked  skeptically. 

"I  sure  did!    Left  there  about  an  hour  ago." 

"How  are  they  takin'  it?"  There  was  genuine 
concern  in  Bodine 's  voice. 

' '  They  're  stunned.  They  '11  mill  around  for  a  day 
or  two  until  they  find  a  leader;  there  '11  be  trouble 
then !  The  word  has  been  passed  for  a  big  pow-wow 
to-morrow  night  at  the  Rancho.  I  wouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  the  old  don  throws  the  thing  into  the  courts 
from  the  start.  From  what  I  hear,  he  's  got  the 
backing  of  all  the  other  ranchers." 

"Courts— the  old  fool!  Why  doesn't  he  fight  it 
out?" 

"They  wouldn't  have  a  chance,"  Blaze  said,  ob- 
viously drawing  Bodine  on.  "The  law  is  the  best 
way,  isn't  it?" 

"Law,  hell!  It  ain't  no  way!  Who  wants  the 
law  when  you  can  do  without  it?" 

Blaze  sat  down  on  the  porch  while  Bodine  went 
inside  to  read  Acklin's  letter.  He  fancied  he  saw 
some  one  staring  at  him  from  the  blackness  of  the 
barn  door. 

"You  tell  Acklin  my  boys  are  in  the  Buttes  now," 
Bodine  stated  when  he  came  out.  "I  '11  be  over  to 
the  Bull's  Head  to-morrow." 

Blaze  made  no  effort  to  leave.  By  even  the  shortest 
way,  he  knew  it  would  be  after  ten  before  he  reached 
the  Bull's  Head.  He  had  not  eaten,  except  for  a 


70  WHISPERING  SAGE 

piece  of  jerky  and  a  bowl  of  coffee,  since  morning. 
The  appetizing-  odors  coming  from  the  kitchen  were 
too  much  for  him. 

"I  guess  you  won't  have  any  trouble  finding  your 
way  back  home,"  Bodine  insinuated  to  speed  his 
guest. 

"Not  on  an  empty  stomach,"  Blaze  said  with  a 
sour  face.  "It  's  pretty  near  time  to  eat,  is n 't  it ? " 

Their  eyes  met,  and  Bodine  laughed. 

"Say,  pardner,"  he  answered,  "you  ain't  going 
to  miss  nothing  if  asking  will  get  it  for  you.  Come 
on  in." 

They  went  inside.  With  relish,  Blaze  eyed  the  sage- 
hen  cooking  on  the  stove,  but  his  curiosity  more  than 
his  appetite  had  made  him  stay. 

"You  must  have  been  expecting  me,"  he  said  with 
a  grin.  "I  see  you  got  the  knives  and  forks  set  for 
two.  I  thought  you  were  alone." 

Bodine  turned  suspiciously  and  searched  Kildare's 
eyes.  What  he  found  in  them  seemed  to  reassure  him. 

1 '  That  's  the  way  I  housekeep, ' '  he  mumbled  as  he 
fussed  with  the  stove.  ' '  Supper  on  one  side  the  table ; 
breakfast  the  other.  Wash  'em  all  up  together. 
Saves  time!  Let 's  eat." 

Blaze  drew  out  a  chair  that  would  leave  him  facing 
the  window. 

"Sit  on  the  other  side,"  Bodine  cut  in.  "I  11  be 
handy  to  the  stove  here,  so  I  can  hot  up  the  coffee. 
I  Ve  got  some  biscuits  in  the  oven." 

The  lie  seemed  to  pass  muster.  Buck  kept  on  won- 
dering why  Shorty  had  taken  to  his  heels.  He  studied 


WHISPERING  SAGE  71 

Kildare's  face  cautiously.  The  cow-boy  smiled.  They 
ate  in  silence  for  a  while.  Blaze  praised  Bodine 's 
cooking,  not  knowing  Shorty  had  been  the  chef  be- 
fore his  mad  dash  to  the  barn. 

Blaze  had  been  careful  to  note  that  the  window  had 
been  closed  when  he  sat  down.  Yet  as  he  finished  the 
last  of  the  biscuits  he  felt  the  first  touch  of  the  cold 
night  wind  on  the  back  of  his  neck.  He  knew  the 
window  was  being  slowly  opened. 

Blaze  sensed  his  danger;  but  no  hint  of  it  came 
into  his  eyes  as  they  met  Bodine's.  Quite  naturally 
he  turned  the  talk  to  the  work  at  hand.  The  over- 
intentness  with  which  Bodine  heard  him  convinced 
Blaze  that  his  imagination  was  not  playing  him  tricks. 
And  yet  he  dared  not  turn  around.  He  knew  that  if 
the  man  at  the  window  was  minded  to  shoot  him 
down  in  cold  blood  any  movement  he  made  would  be 
sure  to  bring  on  the  climax.  But  why  was  he  singled 
out?  He  had  seen  enough  to  make  him  realize  that 
something  moved  under  the  surface  here  on  Webster 
Creek,  but  gun-play  was  more  than  he  had  expected. 

The  shining  biscuit-tin,  acting  as  a  mirror,  re- 
flected the  troubled  face  of  Bodine.  Inspiration  came 
to  Blaze.  Reaching  out,  he  took  the  pan  and  stood  it 
on  end  as  if  to  shake  the  crumbs  from  it ;  then  quickly 
held  it  before  him  and  caught  on  the  polished  sur- 
face the  picture  of  a  hat  and  the  lower  part  of  a  face. 
With  the  barrel  of  a  heavy  gun  the  owner  of  the  hat 
was  pushing  the  window  open.  In  vain  Blaze  tried 
to  penetrate  the  shadow  which  the  hat  threw  over 
the  man's  face,  and  which  concealed  his  identity. 


72  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Bodine  was  quick  to  grasp  the  action.  With  an 
oath  he  kicked  his  chair  behind  him  and  made  for 
the  window. 

"That  damned  wind  comes  out  of  the  canon  every 
night  about  this  time.  Cools  your  victuals  off  before 
you  Ve  got  time  to  get  them  down." 

He  closed  the  window  with  a  bang.  Had  Shorty 
recognized  an  enemy  in  Kildare  ?  When  Buck  turned 
he  found  Blaze  was  on  his  feet. 

"Going  already?"  he  asked,  torn  between  anger 
and  fear.  A  break  with  the  Double  A  now  would  be 
a  calamity. 

"Adios,  then."  Bodine  waved  his  hand  as  Kil- 
dare got  into  the  saddle.  He  failed  to  note  the  tilt 
of  Kildare 's  jaw. 

Blaze  forced  My  Man  close  to  the  porch. 

"Years  ago,  way  up  in  Montana,  Bodine,"  he 
warned,  "I  first  heard  of  the  Double  A.  And  since 
then  whenever  I  've  heard  cow-men  speak  of  it,  there 
is  one  thing  they  have  always  said:  'The  Double  A 
boys  stick  together.'  They  have  a  habit  of  not  for- 
getting. If  one  of  them  turns  up  missing  and  is  dis- 
covered months  later  lying  face  down  in  some  lonely 
little  canon,  plugged  in  the  back  by  a  rustler  or 
gunman,  they  don  't  wait  for  the  sheriff.  They  chased 
*  Soapy'  Smith  all  the  way  into  Utah;  they  got  him, 
too."  Blaze  paused.  "That  's  just  something  to 
think  about,"  he  added  sullenly  and,  giving  My  Man 
the  bit,  cantered  away. 

This  talk  was  plain  enough  for  Bodine.  His  ad- 
miration for  Blaze  continued  to  grow. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  73 

"You  're  a  wise  bird/'  he  murmured  to  himself. 
* l  There  's  no  flies  on  you. ' ' 

Presently  from  the  corner  of  the  house,  Shorty 
inquired  sotto  voce:  "Is  he  gone?" 

Bodine  turned  on  him  angrily. 

"What  kind  of  a  fool  play  was  that  you  made?" 
he  demanded.  '  *  Running  like  a  rabbit,  and  then  try- 
ing to  get  him  in  the  back." 

"He  come  up  so  quiet-like  he  threw  a  scare  into 
me,"  Shorty  answered.  "Why  didn't  you  tip  me  off 
if  he  was  0.  K.,  when  I  opened  the  window?" 

' '  How  could  I  ?  He  got  you  from  the  start.  Held 
up  that  tin  plate  for  a  mirror.  I  've  told  you  a  dozen 
times  we  have  nothing  to  be  scared  of.  Why  start  the 
ball  rolling  by  plugging  one  of  these  Double  A  boys  ? 
They  're  with  us  in  this  game !  You  make  another 
play  like  that  and  I  'm  through  with  you.  That  goes, 
and  don't  you  forget  it." 

Bodine 's  temper  did  not  alarm  Shorty.  They  had 
been  together  too  long. 

"He  didn't  remind  you  of  any  one,  huh?" 

Bodine  whirled  on  his  pal. 

"Who?"  he  demanded. 

"I  can't  remember.  But  I  've  seen  that  back 
before,  somewhere." 

Shorty's  vagueness  only  caused  Bodine  to  break 
out  again. 

"You  're  loco.  A  lot  of  help  you  '11  be  to  me  in  this 
fight." 

Shorty  said  nothing  but  took  a  lantern  and  followed 
Kildare's  trail  through  the  brush.  It  led  straight 


74  WHISPERING  SAGE 

to  the  road.  Presently  he  turned  back,  convinced  he 
had  made  a  mistake. 

The  Double  A  man  had  expected  this  very  thought. 
In  spite  of  his  aroused  suspicions,  he  had  kept  on, 
expecting  to  be  trailed. 

"I  hope  you  're  satisfied/*  Bodine  snapped  at 
Shorty  when  he  came  back.  "The  man  comes  on 
straight  business,  and  rides  away  as  he  ought  to,  even 
after  you  tried  to  spill  the  beans.  You  make  me 
sick!" 

"Well,  I  'm  thinkin'  you  11  be  sorry  some  day  that 
you  did  n  't  let  me  get  him. ' ' 

And  while  they  continued  to  quarrel  Blaze  covered 
the  long  miles  to  the  Bull's  Head  where  Acklin  was 
waiting  for  him. 


CHAPTER  IX 

OLD  IRONSIDES  arose  from  his  breakfast-table 
the  following  morning  determined  to  see 
Acklin.  So  far  Jose  had  met  the  issue  stoically.  For 
that  reason  perhaps  he  realized  fully  his  desperate 
position.  The  value  of  every  acre  he  owned  was  de- 
pendent upon  the  water  which  had  disappeared  over- 
night. Its  loss  meant  the  sweeping  away  of  the 
fruits  of  a  lifetime  of  saving  and  unremitting  toil. 
He  knew  he  was  too  old  to  begin  all  over  again. 

Even  when  Esteban  had  told  him  of  the  wire  bar- 
rier the  Double  A  had  strung  across  the  valley  he 
refused  to  believe  that  Acklin  had  deliberately  set 
out  to  steal  their  water.  A  cloudburst  back  in  the 
hills,  or  a  cave-in  where  the  creek  came  through 
Martin  Canon,  might  be  responsible.  When  Webster 
Creek  began  to  overflow  its  banks,  however,  the  old 
Basque  had  to  admit  the  worst.  What  puzzled  him 
was  Bodine's  complicity.  The  Double  A  had  always 
played  a  lone  hand. 

Basque-like,  he  took  no  counsel  of  his  womenfolk 
in  times  of  stress.  Mercedes,  however,  stepped  over 
this  age-old  convention.  She  tried  to  persuade  him 
against  going  to  the  Bull's  Head. 

" Father, "  she  pleaded  in  Spanish,  "is  it  safe? 
Why  won't  you  take  your  rifle?" 

"Nonsense!"  Jose  answered,  but  he  bent  down 
75 


76  WHISPERING  SAGE 

from  his  horse  to  pat  her  head.  "What  need  have 
I  of  a  gun?  I  go  in  broad  daylight  by  the  main 
traveled  road.  Men  know  that  I  do  not  come  to 
steal/' 

Tearfully  Mercedes  watched  her  father  and  brother 
ride  away.  A  great  silence  hung  over  the  Rancho 
Buena  Vista.  Even  the  tiny  Basilio  was  subdued. 

At  the  end  of  their  fence  Esteban  pulled  up  his 
horse  and  prepared  to  turn  back. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  see  you?"  he  asked,  as  his 
father  murmured  good-by. 

"If  he  is  not  guilty  he  will,"  Jose  replied  saga- 
ciously. "I  am  as  intent  on  finding  out  where  he 
stands  as  I  am  on  seeing  the  man.  I  know,  therefore, 
that  I  will  not  have  my  ride  for  nothing." 

Acklin  had  foreseen  this  visit.  It  was  certain  to 
be  a  bad  half-hour.  Thought  of  its  unpleasantness 
solely,  and  not  a  sense  of  shame  for  his  duplicity, 
caused  him  to  arrange  hurriedly  for  an  alleged  trip 
to  the  Owyhee. 

"I  '11  be  back  to-morrow,"  he  told  Cash.  "But  if 
any  one  asks,  say  you  don't  know.  In  the  meantime 
you  sit  tight.  Answer  no  questions.  I  doubt  if  they 
can  get  a  court  order  to  cross  our  line.  When  I  've 
finished  at  the  Bar  Circle,  I  'm  going  over  to  the 
X  L.  Peter  has  a  'phone,  so  you  can  get  me  there 
if  you  need  me  in  a  hurry.  If  Bodine  oversteps  him- 
self, you  get  in  touch  with  me." 

Therefore  it  followed  that  about  the  same  time 
Jose  left  the  Rancho  Acklin  departed  from  the  Bull 's 
Head. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  77 

By  word  of  mouth  from  his  men,  the  news  of  the 
old  Basque's  coming  had  been  relayed  to  Cash.  He 
had  flashed  back  to  them  not  to  molest  the  visitor. 

The  foreman  was  guilty  of  staging  his  reception  of 
Old  Ironsides.  With  an  air  of  preoccupation  he  sat 
down  at  Acklin's  desk  and  began  going  over  some 
tally-books.  When  he  saw  the  old  man  swing  into 
the  ranch  yard,  he  gave  up  his  mimic  show  in  dis- 
gust. Cash  stood  ready  to  do  him  out  of  his  ranch 
if  he  could ;  but  the  old  man  radiated  such  an  air  of 
honesty  that  the  foreman  turned  his  back  on  any- 
thing as  petty  as  the  dumb  show  he  had  arranged. 
He  knew  Jose  to  be  a  speaker  of  true  words.  That 
in  itself  was  sufficient  to  gain  respect  from  the  un- 
sentimental Cash.  Consequently  he  got  out  of  his 
chair  and  walked  to  the  open  door. 

"Buenos  dias,  Senor/'  he  called,  as  the  dignified 
old  Basque  strode  up  the  steps. 

Jose  returned  the  salutation  ceremoniously. 

' '  Is  the  Senor  busy  ? "  he  inquired. 

Cash  surmised  the  effort  it  cost  the  man  to  appear 
so  calm.  His  looks  gave  a  hint  of  the  strain  he  was 
under. 

"The  boss  isn't  home,"  Morrow  answered,  almost 
glad  that  he  could  speak  the  truth.  "He  left  for  the 
Owyhee  early  this  morning.  Don't  expect  him  back 
to-day,  neither." 

Jose  mopped  his  forehead. 

*  r  Anything  I  can  do  for  you  ? ' '  Cash  suggested. 

It  was  a  full  minute  before  the  other  replied. 

"There  is  hardly  a  drop  of  water  in  Rebel  Creek," 


78  WHISPERING  SAGE 

lie  stated.  "You  know,  of  course,  that  the  old  wash 
of  the  Webster  is  running  over  its  banks. " 

The  foreman  bent  over  to  pick  up  a  sliver  of  wood. 

"Seems  though  I  heard  something  about  it." 

"The  Senor,  he  had  heard  of  it,  too?" 

The  foreman  felt  the  rebuke  for  his  flippancy. 

"I  imagine  he  did.  We've  been  building  some 
fence  down  there." 

"Yes!"  Jose's  tones  were  icy  cold.  "I  came  to- 
day to  ask  permission  to  cross  that  fence.  My  neigh- 
bors have  sought  to  see  beyond  it,  and  they  have  been 
driven  away.  Both  you  and  Acklin  know  me.  I  lay 
no  hand  on  what  is  not  mine.  Unless  there  has  been 
trickery  on  your  part,  you  cannot  refuse  me." 

Cash  hitched  up  his  trousers. 

"I  ain't  got  any  complaint  against  your  honesty," 
he  stammered.  "But  you  're  askin'  something  I  can't 
allow.  I  've  got  orders  to  let  no  one  through.  And 
for  about  twenty-five  years  I  been  aimin'  to  see  that 
orders  are  carried  out  around  here." 

"Your  answer  is  what  I  should  have  expected," 
Old  Ironsides  said,  unable  to  smother  his  anger.  "I 
wanted  Seiior  Acklin  to  convict  himself  before  I 
judged  him.  I  have  my  answer !  I  see  now,  that  he 
runs  away;  he  is  a  coward,  too." 

Without  another  word  he  mounted  his  horse  and 
struck  off  down  the  valley.  Morrow  shook  his  head 
as  he  watched  him  go.  Ten  minutes  later  he  had  for- 
gotten the  incident.  Life  had  proved  to  Cash  that 
sentiment  is  usually  wrong. 

Once  he  had  arrived  at  the  Rancho,  Jose  retired 


WHISPERING  SAGE  79 

to  the  patio  to  lay  his  plans  for  the  meeting  that 
evening.  Esteban  he  sent  to  Paradise.  By  noon  the 
result  of  Jose's  errand  had  spread  throughout  the 
valley. 

The  rebuff  his  father  had  met  only  increased  Este- 
ban's  desire  for  quick  revenge  on  Bodine  and  the 
Double  A. 

This  waiting  and  appealing  to  the  law  did  not  suit 
the  hot-headed  boy.  What  had  the  law  ever  won 
for  any  of  them? 

His  eloquence  soon  gave  Esteban  a  following.  His 
crowd  had  grown  in  strength  until  by  night  Tuscarora 
and  Jose  had  become  alarmed.  The  boy's  success  in 
town  was  sure  to  make  him  try  to  run  away  with  the 
meeting  later  on. 

"You  are  right,  Joe,"  Jose  said  when  Tuscarora 
told  him.  "Violence  would  win  for  us  to-night.  But 
we  could  not  hold  our  gains.  We  would  be  outside 
the  law.  And  I  think  that  is  just  what  Acklin  is 
hoping  we  will  do.  We  won't  start  until  ten  o'clock. 
That  will  give  everybody  a  chance  to  get  here  before 
we  begin.  You  come  early,  my  friend." 

Esteban,  however,  did  not  plan  to  wait  for  the 
meeting.  With  about  half  a  dozen  chosen  companions 
he  schemed  to  ride  around  the  Double  A  wire  and  see 
for  himself  just  what  had  happened. 

He  rightly  figured  that  the  men  on  guard  would 
be  best  caught  unawares  early  in  the  evening.  He 
therefore  planned  to  have  his  friends  make  a  demon- 
stration directly  north  of  town;  as  soon  as  the  twi- 
light faded  and  while  they  were  engaging  the  atten- 


80  WHISPEEING  SAGE 

tion  of  Acklin's  men,  he  hoped  to  steal  unobserved 
through  the  foot-hills  below  the  Chimney. 

His  father  had  been  honest  and  considerate  of  every- 
body; and  too  often  had  he  turned  the  other  cheek 
that  peace  might  continue  in  the  valley.  Under  his 
leadership  his  people  had  been  satisfied  with  less 
than  their  share.  This  humility,  this  bending  of  the 
knee,  might  be  well  enough  for  Mexicans ;  but  he  was 
no  Latin.  In  his  veins  was  the  blood  of  the  gypsying 
Celt.  It  gave  him  vision  enough  to  see  that  the  way 
of  the  Basques  and  these  English-speaking  people  did 
not  lie  together. 

The  rat-tat-tat  of  firing  put  an  end  to  his  medita- 
tion. As  he  listened,  the  shooting  grew  in  violence. 
It  was  far  off.  The  reports  came  muffled,  and 
deadened. 

From  where  he  waited  a  short  three  hundred  yards 
brought  him  to  the  road  that  dipped  down  into  the 
valley  across  the  Double  A  line.  Once  he  had  gained 
it,  he  let  his  horse  out  in  earnest.  It  was  from  the 
rear  that  danger  threatened.  Speed  was  his  safe- 
guard. 

He  reached  the  willows  in  the  creek-bottom  none 
too  soon.  Hardly  had  he  thrown  his  horse  when  Cash 
and  his  men  thundered  by.  Morrow  was  determined 
only  upon  getting  to  the  scene  of  action  as  quickly 
as  possible.  He  began  to  wonder  as  he  left  the  creek 
behind  if  this  sortie  north  of  town  was  not  a  feint. 
He  knew,  by  the  way  in  which  the  firing  continued, 
that  his  men  were  holding  their  own  over  there. 
He  held  up  his  hand  until  he  caught  Blaze's  eye. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  81 

"Hike  back  to  the  creek, "  he  ordered.  " Watch 
out.  This  thing  to  the  west  looks  crooked  to  me." 

In  ten  minutes  Blaze  had  retraced  his  way  to 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  Esteban 
was.  So,  unaware  of  each  other,  stalker  and  stalked 
made  their  way  downstream  on  opposite  banks. 

Blaze  found  the  going  much  better  on  his  side  of 
the  creek.  Once  My  Man  stepped  on  a  broken-down 
willow  that  snapped  with  a  bang  under  his  weight. 
The  report  reached  the  boy,  now  several  hundred 
yards  behind.  A  cold  sweat  broke  out  on  the  young 
Basque.  The  horse  had  passed  on  to  a  grassy  knoll, 
and  no  further  sound  reached  the  listener.  Esteban. 
dismissed  it  for  a  wildcat  or  coyote. 

As  he  had  listened,  the  murmur  of  purring,  splash- 
ing water  sang  in  his  ears.  He  nodded  his  head 
silently.  Rebel  Creek  still  flowed  here  as  of  old! 
He  went  on.  Unseen  branches  of  friendly  willows 
slapped  him  in  the  face  as  he  led  his  pony  along. 
Less  than  half  an  hour  from  now  the  moon  would  be 
up.  He  knew  he  must  be  below  the  wire  before  then. 

Blaze  had  drawn  ahead  while  Esteban  waited.  He 
found  everything  quiet  at  the  confluence  of  the  two 
creeks.  He  even  stopped  to  light  a  cigarette.  He  sur- 
veyed Bodine  's  work  with  disgust.  Fording  the  creek, 
he  followed  the  wire  east  of  the  willows  for  a  short 
distance.  Seeing  nothing  suspicious,  he  turned  and 
was  about  to  retrace  his  way  to  the  darkness  of  the 
trees  when  My  Man's  nostrils  quivered.  The  wind 
had  borne  the  horse  its  telltale  message. 

The  rim  of  the  golden-yellow  moon  crept  above  the 


82  WHISPERING  SAGE 

range  at  Kildare's  back,  silhouetting  him  in  its  glow- 
ing fire.  Catlike,  he  slid  from  his  saddle.  Below  him 
a  few  yards,  a  rock  outcropping  lay  in  shadow.  Al- 
ready the  moon  was  searching  out  the  hillside  that 
fell  away  to  the  willows.  Dropping  the  rein  over 
My  Man's  head,  Blaze  wriggled  on  his  stomach  until 
he  reached  the  rocky  ledge. 

No  hint  of  lurking  danger  came  to  Esteban  as  he 
continued  down  the  stream.  Once  his  pony  stopped 
momentarily.  The  boy's  voice  quavered  as  he  forced 
his  horse  onward.  He  had  not  far  to  go.  The  sandy 
bottom  widened;  a  turning,  and  he  stood  where  the 
Rebel  poured  into  the  Webster. 

Esteban  got  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and 
studied  the  bank  of  rock  and  sand  that  filled  the 
channel  of  the  creek,  all  unmindful  of  the  grim 
figure  that  lay  on  the  rocks  above  him. 

He  slid  into  the  water.  It  came  to  his  armpits. 
Breasting  the  current,  he  waded  to  where  the  cloud- 
burst had  once  closed  the  mouth  of  the  Webster.  No 
such  barrier  arose  now.  Unimpeded,  the  water  swept 
by  him.  The  theft  was  plain  and  certain. 

Wet  and  bedraggled,  Esteban  crawled  out  on  the 
bank.  A  glance  to  the  eastward  told  him  he  had 
tarried  too  long.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
break  for  the  open  and  race  to  the  Chimney.  The 
firing  below  him  had  died  away.  With  every  nerve 
on  edge,  he  fingered  his  gun  and  raked  the  gray  with 
his  spurs. 

In  a  flash  he  was  free  of  the  underbrush.  But  he 
had  not  gone  twenty  yards  before  something  moved 


WHISPERING  SAGE  83 

in  front  of  him.  It  was  My  Man,  grazing  where  he 
had  been  left.  The  boy  could  not  turn  back.  A  second 
brought  him  abreast  of  the  rocky  ledge. 

Esteban 's  keen  eyes  located  his  enemy  as  he 
crouched,  rifle  at  his  shoulder,  on  the  outcropping. 
Eye  and  finger  acted  at  the  same  moment  in  the  young 
Basque.  In  wild  panic  he  emptied  his  gun. 

A  curse  and  a  low  cry  of  pain  said  that  a  bullet 
had  found  its  mark.  He  saw  the  wounded  man  dis- 
appear ;  but  the  next  instant  he  heard  him  running. 

From  the  road  across  the  creek  came  the  cries  of 
men  and  the  patter  of  rapidly  driven  horses.  "With 
savage  energy  Esteban  drove  his  spurs  home.  His 
mount,  the  gray  Bodine  had  broken  for  him,  leaped 
ahead  in  mile-devouring  strides.  Once  he  reached  the 
road,  he  would  be  unbeatable. 

Blaze  felt  his  arm.  It  burned  as  though  he  had 
been  branded  with  an  iron.  He  did  not  recognize 
Esteban;  but  when  he  saw  him  head  for  the  road  he 
guessed  his  intention.  The  way  around  by  the  Chim- 
ney was  the  only  means  of  escape.  Kildare  got  into 
his  saddle  and  lined  straight  for  it.  The  burning  hole 
in  his  shoulder  made  him  realize  where  he  stood. 

His  short  cut  took  him  beyond  sound  of  the  rein- 
forcements coming  to  his  aid. 

He  likewise  lost  track  of  Esteban ;  the  boy  also  lost 
sight  of  him  and  began  to  breathe  easier.  The  gray 
had  left  his  pursuers  far  behind. 

Blaze  reached  the  Chimney  in  advance  of  the 
Basque  by  a  full  minute.  He  found  the  road,  in  front 
of  the  wall  of  rock,  in  darkness.  No  ray  of  moonlight 


84  WHISPERING  SAGE 

penetrated  there.  Slipping  from  his  saddle,  he 
waited.  In  the  distance  he  could  hear  the  rush  of  a 
madly  ridden  horse.  Blaze  sent  My  Man  into  the 
brush  at  his  left,  and  flattened  himself  against  the 
wall  of  the  Chimney. 

The  tattoo  of  the  flying  hoofs  grew  louder  and 
louder.  Another  instant,  and  the  gray  was  upon  him. 
The  fence  came  almost  to  the  road.  The  boy  on  the 
gray's  back  pulled  him  up,  and  wheeled  him  to  swing 
down  into  the  valley  south  of  the  wire.  Blaze  jumped 
for  the  bridle,  and  with  his  uninjured  arm  jabbed  his 
six-gun  into  Esteban's  ribs. 

1 '  Stick  up  your  hands ! "  he  whipped  into  the  boy 's 
very  ear. 

Esteban's  surprise  was  complete.  But  instinctively 
he  made  a  lunge  for  his  gun. 

" Another  inch,'"  the  man  at  his  horse's  head 
warned,  "and  I  '11  drop  you  out  of  that  saddle !" 

The  gray  shied,  dragging  Blaze  into  the  moonlight. 
Recognition  was  simultaneous  with  both.  Blaze 
brought  his  gun  down  with  a  shudder.  The  boy  would 
never  know  how  near  he  had  been  to  death. 

Esteban  saw  the  blood-covered  arm. 

"You?"  He  questioned,  when  he  could  speak. 
"Well,  why  don't  you  shoot?"  he  dared. 

Blaze  shook  his  head.  A  memory  of  Mercedes  came 
to  him.  What  was  he  to  do  with  this  young,  hot- 
headed, irresponsible  boy? 

The  pursuing  horsemen  pounded  at  their  back. 
Esteban  stiffened. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  85 

"You  fan  it  out  of  here!"  Blaze  growled.  "You 
thank  the  moon,  not  me,  that  you  are  alive  to  do  it." 

He  brought  his  hand  down  on  the  gray's  flank. 
The  horse  bounded  away.  Blaze  fired  his  gun  to  help 
him  along. 

Another  second  and  Cash  reined  up  beside  Blaze. 

"Did  you  get  him?"  he  roared. 

"He  got  me!"  Blaze  winced  as  he  lifted  his  arm. 
"Plugged  me  back  there,  at  the  creek." 


CHAPTER  X 

ONE-EYED  MANUEL  -was  lazily  polishing  and 
arranging  his  glasses  into  a  formidable  pyramid 
when  Buck  Bodine  banged  open  the  swinging  doors 
and  strode  menacingly  up  to  the  bar. 

He  had  not  known  what  he  would  find.  Over  at 
the  ranch  the  noise  of  the  guns  had  sounded  like 
the  eclioes  of  a  battle.  Curiosity  and  his  bravado 
had  brought  him  to  this  Basque  stronghold.  But  the 
wind  had  sent  no  murmur  of  the  shooting  into  town. 
Tuscarora  and  the  others  had  left  for  the  meeting 
some  time  ago. 

Bodine  wondered  if  their  absence  argued  any  con- 
nection with  the  fray.  It  did  not  seem  reasonable 
that  every  one  had  gone  to  the  meeting.  He  had  come 
to  town  expecting  to  find  all  sorts  of  excitement. 
Shorty  and  Gloomy  had  tried  to  dissuade  Bodine. 
He  had  smiled  at  them  contemptuously.  When  he 
wanted  a  thing,  he  went  after  it. 

The  firing  had  been  sweet  music  to  Bodine 's  ears. 
Whatever  might  be  the  outcome,  he  figured  it  could 
not  be  other  than  to  his  liking.  He  wanted  gun-play. 
He  had  spoken  the  truth  when  he  told  Blaze  that  the 
law  was  not  his  way.  He  hated  the  law.  Life  had 
done  nothing  but  make  him  suspicious  of  it.  In  his 
heart  he  prayed  that  the  Double  A  had  become  en- 


WHISPERING  SAGE  87 

tangled  in  a  serious  shooting  affair.  It  would  mean 
an  old-fashioned  cow-man's  war.  Acklin  could  not 
back  out  then.  And  if  it  came  to  a  struggle  of  that 
kind,  his  own  insignificant  forces  would  be  only  a 
drop  in  the  proverbial  bucket.  The  Double  A  would 
have  to  fight  both  his  battle  and  their  own. 

The  fact  that  the  saloon  was  almost  deserted  did 
not  serve  to  soothe  his  temper.  He  had  catapulted 
into  the  place  expecting  to  be  jumped.  Therefore 
when  he  found  he  had  girded  his  loins  for  nothing, 
he  sulked. 

Manuel's  back  was  to  the  door.  He  caught  a  flash 
of  his  customer  in  the  mirror.  He  had  not  forgotten 
Bodine.  The  bad  blood  between  the  two  men  had  not 
turned  to  water.  The  Mexican's  dead  eye  screwed 
itself  into  an  ugly  wrinkle.  His  livid  scars,  left  by 
the  knife  that  had  cost  him  his  eye,  grew  white.  That 
day  fifty  men  had  threatened  Bodine 's  life.  Had  the 
man  heard  and  come  here  for  revenge  ? 

He  kept  his  back  to  Bodine,  pretending  that  he  had 
not  seen  him  come  in.  It  was  his  crude  way  of 
attempting  to  play  for  time. 

Buck  took  his  action  for  something  else.  An  empty 
glass  stood  close  to  where  he  leaned  against  the  bar. 
"With  an  oath  he  picked  it  up  and  smashed.it  against 
the  floor. 

Manuel  turned  as  if  shot. 

" Where  's  all  the  Basque  genie  to-night?"  he 
asked  insolently.  ' '  Bah  \ ' ' 

He  turned  without  waiting  for  the  Mexican  to  re- 
ply. In  fact  he  expected  no  answer  to  his  question. 


88  WHISPERING  SAGE 

It  was  only  his  way  of  telling  Manuel  that  he  came 
there  without  regard  for  any  Basque. 

Buck  walked  to  the  door.  Over  his  shoulder  he 
threw  a  parting  to  the  cowering  Mexican:  "You 
need  those  pink  pills  for  pale  persons,  carisima!" 

With  growing  anger  he  strutted  about  the  deserted 
town,  trying  to  learn  what  had  happened  at  the  fence. 
His  impatience  was  akin  to  that  with  which  Juan  and 
Romero  Ugarde  and  young  Salvator  Rodriguez  and 
their  fellow-conspirators  waited  at  the  sheep  corral 
north  of  the  Ugarde  ranch  for  the  belated  Esteban. 

They  had  come  off  untouched  from  their  brush  with 
the  Double  A  men.  But  their  elation  had  waned  per- 
ceptibly as  they  sat  there  cooling  their  heels.  The 
pessimistic  Romero  voiced  the  opinion  that  they  should 
never  see  Esteban  alive.  The  others  were  almost 
ready  to  agree  with  him  when  the  boy  dashed  in 
among  them. 

Esteban 's  regard  for  himself  had  altered  largely 
in  the  five  miles  he  had  come  from  the  Chimney.  With 
the  cheers  of  his  followers  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  was 
not  inclined  to  tell  them  by  what  fortunate  circum- 
stance he  was  here,  safe  and  sound.  Therefore  his 
colorful  recital  held  no  mention  of  Kildare.  When 
he  had  finished,  his  position  as  their  leader  was 
secure. 

"Now  they  will  listen  to  us!"  Romero  asserted. 
"And  if  the  old  graybeards  won't  fight,  we  will  strike 
by  ourselves. " 

Cries  of  approval  met  this  statement. 

"You  are  right,  Romero!"  Esteban  cried,  fired  by 


WHISPERING  SAGE  89 

their  enthusiasm.  "We  '11  put  an  end,  once  for  all, 
to  this  talk  of  appealing  to  the  law.  When  I  've  told 
them  my  story  there  '11  be  plenty  to  side  with  us." 

What  a  sweet  morsel  this  bit  of  logic  would  have 
been  for  Bodine !  He  had  foreseen  it  from  the  start. 

With  a  jingle  of  spur-chains,  they  headed  for  the 
Rancho.  Esteban  knew  he  could  not  change  his  story. 
He  had  sworn  to  take  sides  against  his  father,  and 
these  boys  would  see  that  he  kept  his  word.  The 
nearer  he  drew  to  home  the  more  formidable  became 
his  task.  He  gritted  his  teeth  in  contemplation  of  it. 
But  this  mood  passed.  Then  for  the  first  time  he  won- 
dered why  Kildare  had  let  him  escape. 

This  chain  of  reasoning  led  him  to  Mercedes.  What 
would  she  say  when  he  told  her  about  the  man?  Im- 
mediately he  realized  that  he  could  not  tell  her. 

In  the  midst  of  this  self-questioning,  they  came  into 
sight  of  the  Eancho.  Esteban  stopped  for  a  con- 
sultation. He  was  against  dashing  into  the  meeting 
hit-or-miss.  His  entrance,  properly  timed,  was  cal- 
culated to  have  a  very  dramatic  effect.  He  did  not 
intend  to  be  cheated  out  of  it.  Accordingly  he 
despatched  Romero  to  reconnoiter  the  ground  for 
him. 

His  lieutenant  stole  up  to  the  hacienda  unobserved. 
Mingling  with  the  crowd,  he  soon  found  that  the  sup- 
posed attack  on  the  fence  was  the  sole  topic  of  con- 
versation. For  although  some  of  them  had  left  Para- 
dise in  ignorance  of  it,  the  news  had  reached  them 
here.  Only  by  inference  had  they  been  able  to  sur- 
mise who  had  taken  part  in  the  affair. 


90  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Romero  waited  until  the  meeting  got  under  way 
before  he  stole  back  to  his  crowd.  The  dead  silence 
which  had  greeted  old  Jose's  opening  speech  had  im- 
pressed young  Ugarde.  These  men  were  here  for 
business ! 

Tuscarora  followed  Jose.  He  had  finished  his  ap- 
peal for  law  and  order  and  was  about  to  show  them 
the  foolhardiness  of  resorting  to  the  tactics  some  of 
their  young  men  had  employed  earlier  in  the  evening 
when  the  wild  clatter  of  rapidly  driven  horses  forced 
him  to  stop. 

There  was  a  hardening  of  faces,  a  quick  look  for 
cover,  and  a  drawing  of  guns. 

Esteban  could  not  have  hoped  for  a  more  dramatic 
entrance.  He  tramped  authoritatively  to  the  center 
of  the  big  room  he  knew  so  well.  As  soon  as  they 
recognized  him,  the  meeting  resumed  some  of  its  or- 
derly appearance.  The  boy's  father  got  to  his  feet. 

"What  kind  of  play  is  this?"  he  demanded,  his 
face  purple  with  anger.  Jose  felt  that  his  son's  con- 
duct was  nothing  short  of  preposterous.  The  upstart ! 
Had  the  boy  no  respect  for  his  elders? 

"Do  I  rightly  suppose  that  you  come  from  this 
shooting  affair?" 

"I  come  from  the  other  side  of  the  Double  A  wire !" 
the  boy  hurled  back,  determined  to  give  as  good  as 
he  received. 

In  an  instant  the  meeting  was  in  an  uproar. 
Cries  of  "Tell  us  what  you  saw!"  and  "Now  we 
shall  know  the  truth!"  rang  out.    The  ranchers  had 
not  come  there  to  listen  to  talk  of  peace  and  the  law. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  91 

They  had  been  robbed,  and  they  wanted  action.  At 
last,  it  seemed,  the  meeting  was  going  to  get  some- 
where. 

Cesar  Ferri,  a  great  hulk  of  a  man  from  down  on 
the  river,  got  to  his  feet,  and,  in  a  voice  to  match 
his  weight,  shouted  for  silence.  The  very  size  of  the 
man  seemed  to  have  a  commanding  effect. 

1 '  Give  the  boy  a  chance ! "  he  cried.  ' '  Tell  us  how 
you  got  by  the  fence. ' ' 

Esteban  told  them;  and  the  murmurs  of  approval 
that  greeted  him  as  he  went  along  gave  the  boy  the 
courage  he  needed.  Jose  and  Tuscarora  exchanged 
glances.  The  thing  they  had  feared  was  happening. 

"I  ran  my  hands  over  every  inch  of  that  pile  of 
rock  and  sand.  No  storm  ever  put  it  there!  It  is 
full  of  granite  and  quartz  stringers  that  are  as  sharp 
as  the  day  they  were  blown  out  of  the  solid  rock." 

He  paused  to  let  this  information  sink  home. 

"But  they  didn't  stop  there!  The  sandbar  that 
stretched  across  the  mouth  of  "Webster  Creek  is  gone. 
The  water  came  up  to  my  neck.  Now,"  he  cried, 
"you  know  the  truth!  Why  did  Acklin  build  that 
fence  to  keep  us  out,  if  what  I  say  is  not  so?  Are 
you  satisfied  to  wait  for  the  law  in  the  face  of  this  ? ' ' 

"Dios  mio,  no!"  Cesar  yelled.  "I  fight!  What 
good  is  that  water  if  we  wait  three  months  to  get  at  ? 
In  two  weeks  our  crops  will  be  dead!  Where  will 
we  be  next  winter  then?" 

"It  isn't  only  that  we  are  robbed  of  our  water," 
Romero's  father  added,  "but  it  is  wasted  before  our 
eyes.  We  all  know  about  the  sink  that  swallows  every 


92  WHISPERING  SAGE 

drop  that  reaches  it ;  and  west  of  town  Webster  Creek 
was  running  full  to  its  banks  to-day." 

"Well,  ain't  it  got  a  right  to  run  there  1"  The 
question  came  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  like  the 
snap  of  a  whip. 

As  one  man  they  turned  and  saw  Bodine  in  the 
doorway,  standing  head  and  shoulders  above  every- 
body else  in  the  room,  a  sardonic  smile  playing  about 
his  mouth. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FOR  the  second  time  that  night  revolvers  were 
snatched  from   their  holsters.     A  hair-trigger 
stillness  crept  into  the  room.    Bodine's  mouth  lost  its 
grin  and  went  hard.     The  cords  in  his  neck  stood 
out.    Into  his  eyes  came  the  steely  glitter  of  the  killer. 

Esteban  was  the  first  to  move.  Trembling  with 
fury  that  made  him  almost  impotent,  he  walked  to- 
wards Bodine  and,  with  his  finger  at  the  man's  face, 
shouted :  ' '  You  stool-pigeon !  You  traitor !  Why  do 
you  come  here?" 

Beside  himself  with  rage,  the  boy  drew  his  gun, 
and,  leveling  it  at  Bodine,  he  cried  in  a  voice  that 
shook  with  emotion:  "Get  out  of  here,  or  I  '11  blow 
your  head  off!" 

Bodine  expected  such  a  play.  He  could  have  beaten 
Esteban  to  the  draw.  But  he  showed  his  nerve  in 
choosing  not  to.  If  he  had  made  the  attempt  some 
one  would  have  got  him.  He  held  the  boy's  eyes  now 
in  a  hypnotic  stare. 

Mercedes,  attracted  by  the  noise  of  her  brother's 
attack,  had  edged  close  to  the  storm-center.  With 
marvelous  swiftness  she  reached  for  Esteban 's  gun. 
Bodine  looked  at  her  with  a  sense  of  relief.  He  was 
glad  that  it  had  not  been  she  who  had  attacked  him. 

93 


94  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  boy  tried  to  fight  her  off ;  but  Jose  got  between 
them  and  took  the  gun.  With  blazing  eyes  he  con- 
fronted his  son. 

" Would  you  commit  murder  in  your  own  home?" 
he  burst  out.  "This  is  still  my  house.  I  am  still  its 
master!" 

Father  and  son  glared  at  each  other,  but  the  weight 
of  a  score  of  years  of  submission  was  too  much  for 
the  boy.  He  turned  and  slunk  away.  At  the  door  he 
called  back  venomously:  "Acklin's  dog!  That  's 
what  you  are!" 

Jose  appeared  not  to  notice  his  son's  departure,  so 
intently  did  he  watch  Bodine.  Even  Mercedes  had 
slipped  out  without  attracting  his  attention. 

For  the  first  time  that  night  Buck  began  to  grow 
uneasy.  The  dignity  of  the  old  Basque  was  unas- 
sailable. When  all  was  said  and  done,  it  would  be 
from  Jose  and  his  kind,  backed  up  by  the  law,  that 
the  real  danger  would  threaten,  and  he  feared  it. 

He  knew  it  was  time  for  speech.  He  tried  to  ad- 
dress them  all,  but  against  his  will  his  gaze  reverted 
to  Old  Ironsides. 

"He  's  only  a  kid!"  he  repeated.  "Just  a  kid! 
This  is  no  time  for  kindergarten  cackle.  I  'm  going 
to  talk  to  men,  like  a  man  would.  I  bought  out  old 
Hank  Webster  in  good  faith.  I  never  saw  Acklin 
until  I  met  him  in  this  very  Chouse.  Before  I  bought 
that  place,  I  had  the  records  searched.  The  State  says 
I  am  entitled  to  fourteen  inches  of  water  out  of  Web- 
ster Creek.  And  I  'm  going  to  get  it." 

"The  law  will  decide  that,  Senor."    It  was  Jose's 


WHISPERING  SAGE  95 

first  direct  statement  to  Bodine.  There  was  an  air 
of  finality  about  it. 

"  Fourteen  inches  ?"  Tuscarora  questioned  sar- 
castically. "You  've  taken  it  all.19 

"You  mean,"  Bodine  contradicted,  "that  I  'm  get- 
ting it  all.  Well,  I  don't  need  it.  Suppose  we  for- 
get for  a  moment  how  the  water  changed  its  course 
and  consider  the  facts.  I  've  got  the  water  now! 
You  can't  go  against  that.  Suppose  we  turn  it  back 
into  the  Rebel,  do  I  get  my  share?" 

"If  you  did,  Senor,  there  would  be  none  left  for 
us,"  Jose  answered.  "I  know  Webster  filed  for  four- 
teen inches  of  water,  but  if  we  agree  to  any  such 
compromise,  there  won't  be  an  inch  of  water  left  to 
flow  into  the  Washoe.  Acklin  and  you  would  have 
it  all,  and  we  would  be  helping  you  to  it.  We  have 
all  filed,  and  been  granted  water  rights  on  either 
Rebel  Creek  or  the  Little  Washoe.  What  about 
that?" 

"My  rights  have  priority  over  all  other  water  rights 
in  this  valley,  exceptin'  Acklin 's!"  Buck  tried  to 
drop  this  statement  like  a  bombshell.  He  gazed  about 
the  room  to  watch  its  effect. 

Jose  shook  his  head  judicially. 

"Again  I  say,  the  law  will  decide!  If  Acklin 
builds  a  fence  on  his  own  property  to  keep  us  out, 
that  is  his  right.  If  we  destroy  it,  or  trespass  on 
his  land,  and  resort  to  our  guns,  then  we  are  outside 
the  law.  We  want  to  go  into  court  with  clean  hands ! ' ' 

"You  bet,"  Tuscarora  chimed  in.  "In  a  week  we 
•will  find  out  where  we  're  at.  We  all  know  Tom 


96  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Brand.  He  's  been  on  the  square  with  us  every  time. 
I  '11  run  down  and  see  him." 

The  little  man  stopped  short.  His  eyes  singled  out 
Bodine : 

"Now,  suppose  you  beat  it  out  of  here,  big  fellow. 
The  going  may  be  rough  if  you  wait  until  this  meet- 
ing breaks  up." 

"Don't  come  back,  either!"  some  one  yelled. 

Bodine 's  eyebrows  flattened  out. 

"I  '11  go,"  he  muttered.  "But  not  because  any  one 
here  looks  bad  to  me.  I  came  to  talk  peace  j  but  all 
I  've  heard  is  a  lot  of  mouthing  about  the  law.  I 
hope  you  '11  be  satisfied  with  what  the  law  gives  you. J ' 

1 '  Make  the  thief  go ! "  a  man  in  the  back  of  the  room 
cried. 

The  remark  made  Buck's  lips  curl  in  scorn.  In 
silence  he  started  out.  He  had  not  gone  far  when 
some  one  tittered :  "I  hope  he  takes  the  right  horse. ' ' 

Bodine 's  face  went  scarlet.  Ridicule  had  broken 
through  his  armor  where  everything  else  had  failed. 
He  was  thoroughly  angry  when  he  reached  the  door 
that  led  to  the  patio.  His  offer  to  compromise  had 
been  only  a  trick  to  get  them  on  record  as  recognizing 
some  of  his  claims.  That  Jose  had  seen  through  it, 
made  it  all  the  more  bitter  to  his  taste.  With  a  curse, 
he  made  for  his  horse. 

He  had  reached  the  end  of  the  veranda  and  was 
about  to  open  the  patio  gate  when  he  almost  stumbled 
over  Basilic. 

Mercedes  had  found  the  boy  awake  when  she  had 
left  the  room  where  the  meeting  was  held,  so  she  had 


WHISPERING  SAGE  97 

dressed  him,  and  the  two  of  them  had  wandered  about 
in  the  moonlight. 

She  heard  the  child  cry,  and  saw  Bodine  raise  his 
foot  and  brush  him  aside.  In  a  second  she  was  up 
with  them,  and  took  the  little  fellow  into  her  arms. 

"You  fiend!"  she  cried.  "You  brute!  There  is 
no  part  of  a  man  about  you.  There!  Don't  cry, 
fofmomfo,"  she  crooned.  "This  beast  will  pay  yet!" 
To  Bodine  she  said :  "It  is  good  you  run  away  before 
the  men  come." 

Basilio  ceased  crying  and  Mercedes  started  him 
into  the  patio ;  but  she  stood  her  ground  and  laughed 
contemptuously  at  her  enemy. 

Bodine 's  cruel  mouth  held  its  diabolical  grin  as  he 
got  into  his  saddle.  Once  seated,  he  wheeled  his  horse 
on  its  hind  legs  and,  reaching  down,  caught  the  sur- 
prised girl  around  the  waist  and  lifted  her  beside 
him.  She  bit  and  scratched  him;  but  he  was  too 
strong  for  her.  Bending  his  head,  he  kissed  her  pas- 
sionately on  her  unprotected  lips.  Her  finger  nails 
ripped  his  face  as  he  put  her  down. 

"Laugh  now,  you  little  spitfire!"  he  called  back  as 
he  used  his  spurs  and  waved  his  hand  at  her  care- 
lessly. 

Hot  tears  came  into  the  girl's  eyes.  "When  she 
gained  her  room,  she  scrubbed  her  lips  with  soap  and 
water  until  they  burned. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ESTEBAN'S  ignominious  retreat  smarted  him  to 
the  heart.  He  sulked  and  fumed  for  a  long  time 
before  he  found  the  courage  to  face  Romero  and  the 
caustic  Salvator. 

While  he  had  been  outside,  venting  his  wrath  on 
the  desert  night,  they  made  plans  of  their  own. 
Romero  had  passed  the  word  to  those  apparently  dis- 
satisfied with  the  way  the  meeting  was  going  to  be 
at  Cesar's  place  atonidnight.  They  did  .not  importune 
Esteban  to  join  them.  He  felt  the  rebuff,  and  im- 
mediately resolved  to  go. 

Unobserved,  he  stole  to  his  room,  to  wait  there  for 
his  father  to  retire. 

It  was  his  supposed  absence  that  kept  Jose  awake. 
When  the  meeting  ha'd  ended  he  had  looked  about 
in  vain  for  the  boy.  Knowing  the  ways  of  his  hot- 
tempered  son,  he  did  not  believe  that  Esteban  had 
gone  to  his  room. 

Thoughts,  gloomy  and  foreboding,  filled  the  old 
man's  mind  as  he  walked  with  lowered  head  among 
the  withered  and  dying  flowers  of  the  once  beautiful 
patio.  He  felt  that  he  and  his  son  were  far  apart  in 
this  crisis.  And  he  was  old  enough  to  want  to  lean 
on  his  boy.  Jose  shook  his  head  sadly. 

Above  him  a  window  was  raised.  He  saw  Mer- 
98 


WHISPERING  SAGE  99 

cedes  gazing  down  into  the  patio.  Jose's  face  re- 
laxed as  he  caught  sight  of  her.  She  more  than  made 
up  for  all  the  trouble  and  care  life  had  brought  him. 
Knowing  she  would  not  close  her  eyes  until  she  heard 
him  retire,  he  shook  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  and  went 
indoors. 

Esteban  heard  him,  too,  and  he  chafed  in  his  im- 
patience for  fifteen  minutes  before  he  dared  to  move. 
He  had  brought  his  reata  to  his  room,  and  when 
he  had  opened  his  window  he  quickly  noosed  the  rope 
over  a  bed-post  and  slid  noiselessly  to  the  ground. 

It  took  him  some  time  to  reach  Ferri's  house. 

"We  have  our  guns  with  us ;  Cesar  has  tools  enough 
to  go  around,"  Romero  was  saying  as  Esteban  ar- 
rived. "We  '11  go  up  Rebel  Creek  as  far  as  the  wire. 
We  can  cut  it  before  we  are  discovered.  Once  inside, 
you  can  hold  off  their  men  while  some  of  us  make 
short  work  of  that  bank.  A  stick  of  dynamite  will 
blow  it  into  Idaho!  We  won't  wait  for  any  law! 
Once  we  get  the  water  turned  where  it  belongs, 
Acklin  and  Bodine  will  never  get  it  back.  If  you  are 
willing  to  try  it,  raise  your  hands!" 

"Ole'  cowipaneros!"  the  massive  Cesar  shouted. 
"We  will  win  our  battle  to-night!  Let  me  see  who 
are  the  cowards!" 

One  by  one  the  hands  went  up,  until  Romero 
waved  his  followers  to  their  horses.  At  the  barn  they 
stopped  for  shovels  and  whatever  tools  Cesar  could 
find.  Then  with  a  flourish  they  fled  into  the  north, 
twenty  strong,  Esteban  among  them. 

Talk  died  away  as  they  rode.    An  eloquent  silence 


100  WHISPERING  SAGE 

hung  upon  them.  And  as  they  moved  through  the 
velvety  night  the  man  whom  they  hoped  to  catch  off 
his  guard  sipped  coffee  with  a  dozen  of  his  riders  in 
the  dimly  lighted  dining-room  at  the  Bull's  Head. 
Kildare,  his  arm  bandaged,  lounged  across  the  table 
from  Morrow.  Somebody  yawned.  Cash  looked  at 
his  watch.  It  was  almost  two  o  'clock.  Brother  Jones 
called  for  the  coffee-pot. 

"What  ungodly  hours  for  a  man  of  my  years  and 
manners ! "  he  moaned.  ' '  When  do  we  move,  Cash  ? ' ' 

"Any  time  now,"  Morrow  grumbled.  "I  suppose 
if  I  take  you  boys  down  there  for  nothing,  you  '11 
be  biting  your  false  teeth  for  missing  a  night's  sleep. 
But  if  we  have  a  brush,  and  half  of  you  are  shot  up, 
it'll  be  O.  K."  He  paused.  "Somethin'  sure  to 
come  out  of  that  meetin'.  Get  that  coffee  down,  and 
we  '11  drift." 

Melody,  Brother  Jones,  Patterson,  and  the  rest  of 
the  men  got  to  their  feet  and  began  buckling  on  their 
guns.  Cash  scratched  his  head  unconsciously. 

"Wish  the  Big  Boss  was  here,"  he  said  aloud. 
"Tried  to  get  him  over  to  the  X  L.  Peter  said  he 
had  n  't  been  there.  That  's  funny,  too ;  said  he  was 
going  there."  The  foreman  paused.  "Boys,"  he 
went  on  slowly,  in  a  tone  that  said  he  made  his 
decision  as  he  went  along,  "we  're  going  into  the 
valley  below  our  wire!" 

Hands  stopped  moving.  Some  one  dropped  a  gun. 
With  one  accord  they  turned  and  regarded  him  ex- 
pectantly. Cash  caught  the  tension. 

"The  fence  is  fifty  yards  inside  our  line,"  he  went 


WHISPERING  SAGE  101 

on.  "  We  built  it  there  so  as  to  be  safe  without  check- 
ing  up.  We  '11  go  down  through  the  Chimney,  and 
still-hunt  from  the  little  coulee  that  lies  half-way 
to  the  creek.  If  we  have  any  trouble  we  '11  be  on 
our  own  land.  They  '11  never  expect  to  find  us  outside 
the  fence." 

Morrow  looked  his  men  over.  They  had  finished 
strapping  on  their  holsters — evidence  that  they  were 
agreeable  to  his  plan.  The  foreman's  eyes  rested  on 
Blaze.  He  had  picked  up  his  gun  along  with  the 
others. 

"You  ain't  goin',  are  you,  Kildare;  not  with  that 
arm?"  Cash  asked,  a  note  of  gruff  admiration  for 
the  man 's  pluck  creeping  into  his  voice. 

"My  business  arm  is  all  right,"  Blaze  grinned. 
"I  'm  aimin'  to  see  this  thing  through." 

Dark  screening  clouds  hid  the  moon  as  they  made 
the  coulee.  Brother  Jones  started  for  the  creek-bot- 
tom. He  went  a  hundred  yards  when  he  turned  to 
send  them  a  low  cautious  whistle. 

Cash  held  up  his  hand.  The  little  cavalcade  moved 
quietly  to  where  the  old  man  stood. 

"They  're  coming  now,"  Brother  Jones  whispered. 
"About  two  dozen!  They  '11  be  up  to  the  wire  in 
three  or  four  minutes.  I  caught  'em  jumping  'crost 
that  bare  spot  round  the  bend.  Now  there  '11  be  hell 
to  pay." 

"Wait  till  they  get  to  the  fence,"  Morrow  ordered. 

One  minute,  .  .  .  two  minutes,  ...  a  few  seconds, 
.  .  .  and  the  creek  bottom  swarmed  with  men.  Mor- 
row 's  hand  went  up.  The  old  battle-cry  of  the  Double 


102  WHISPERING  SAGE 

A  rang  out  and,  like  the  fabled  demons  of  the  Andes, 
Acklin's  hired  warriors  crashed  into  the  bewildered. 
Basques. 

In  consternation  and  dismay  the  invaders  tried  to 
recover  from  their  surprise.  But  the  unexpectedness 
of  the  attack  had  destroyed  whatever  morale  they 


Esteban  and  Romero  shrieked  at  their  companions 
to  stand  their  ground.  Neither  could  swing  that 
madly  milling  crowd.  Shovels  and  picks  were  dropped 
in  panicky  flight.  To  get  away  as  quickly  as  possible 
seemed  to  be  the  one  ambition  of  most  of  the  men  from 
the  valley. 

Little  Salvator  and  four  or  five  others,  however, 
fought  their  way  to  Esteban 's  side  and  tried  to  re- 
turn the  fire  of  Acklin's  riders.  But  every  time  the 
Double  A  guns  roared  and  ripped  wide  the  darkness, 
some  one  deserted. 

The  firing  continued.  Salvator  looked  for  his  com- 
panions. Only  Esteban,  Romero,  and  he  were  left. 
Then,  seeing  the  battle  was  hopeless,  he  followed  his 
friends.  Romero  and  Esteban  had  about  enough  of 
it,  too.  The  bank  of  the  creek  offered  them  fair  pro- 
tection. Around  the  bend  the  ground  flattened  out. 
It  meant  a  wild  dash  as  the  Double  A  men  closed  in. 

Romero  rolled  the  whites  of  his  eyes.  No  matter 
what  the  danger,  he  was  going  to  chance  it.  It  was 
death  to  stay  where  they  were.  With  a  yell  to  Este- 
ban, he  started.  The  young  firebrand  was  at  his  heels 
instantly. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  103 

Ten  seconds  brought  them  to  the  flat  country  where 
they  were  an  easy  target.  The  Double  A  guns 
flashed.  One  of  the  boys  shrieked  and  toppled  out  of 
his  saddle.  A  second  volley  followed,  but  the  other 
Basque  was  out  of  sight. 

"Who  is  he?"  Cash  cried,  as  Melody  and  Blaze 
rode  down  into  the  botton. 

The  boy  lay  on  his  face.    Melody  turned  him  over. 

"Ain't  that  too  bad?"  he  groaned.  Then  to  Cash: 
"It's  Old  Ironsides 'skid!" 

Blaze's  face  was  a  study. 

*  *  Once  was  not  enough  for  you, ' '  he  murmured,  not 
unkindly,  as  he  bent  to  lift  Esteban's  head. 

The  boy's  face  was  covered  with  blood.  Blaze 
pushed  the  hair  back  to  find  the  wound.  A  deep 
furrow  showed  where  the  bullet  had  torn  through  the 
scalp. 

Blaze  got  to  his  feet.  "I  don't  think  he  got  it  deep 
enough  to  be  serious.  Better  take  him  in. 

"Sure,  take  him  along,"  Cash  growled.  "We  can't 
eat  him !  You  take  him  up,  Melody  ? ' '  Melody  nodded. 
' '  Take  a  look  around,  boys, ' '  Cash  went  on.  *  *  Maybe 
you  '11  find  another  one  or  two  along  the  creek.  We  '11 
all  turn  in  when  you  get  back.  Say,"  Cash  grinned, 
"those  birds  thought  the  hambone  o'  hell  had  hit 
'em,  did  n  't  they  ?  Yes,  sir ! " 

And  as  they  carried  Esteban  to  the  Bull's  Head, 
Mercedes  wondered  why  little  Basilio  sobbed  as  he 
tossed  in  his  tiny  bed.  Long  desert-miles  stretched 
between  the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  and  the  spot  where 


104  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Esteban  fell.  And  yet,  with  an  intuition  rare  even 
among  the  blind,  the  little  lad  knew  that  something1 
terrible  had  happened. 

Mercedes  awakened  her  brother  and  tried  to  com- 
fort him.  "What  is  the  matter?"  she  implored. 

"Esteban!"  he  cried;  "something  bad  has  come, 
madrecita. " 

The  little  pet  name  went  unheard.  Mercedes  only 
knew  her  throat  was  dry  with  sudden  agony.  She  had 
had  her  own  misgivings  about  Esteban.  Silently  the 
frightened  girl  stole  to  his  room  and  knocked  softly. 
Getting  no  answer,  she  tried  the  knob,  but  the  door 
was  locked.  It  seemed  to  confirm  her  fears.  Doors 
were  never  locked  at  the  Rancho. 

Mercedes  returned  to  Basilio  thoroughly  upset. 
She  hesitated  about  calling  her  father;  but  as  the 
minutes  went  by,  she  felt  she  must.  Hastily  throwing 
on  a  wrap,  she  started  for  Jose's  room.  The  hallway 
made  a  sharp  angle  as  it  turned  to  lead  into  the  wing 
where  he  slept.  A  small  window  opened  on  the  front 
yard  from  the  angle. 

Without  thinking,  Mercedes  stopped  and  looked 
down.  Esteban 's  window  was  plainly  visible;  and 
hanging  from  it  she  saw  the  dangling  reata. 

"Madre  de  Dios!"  she  gasped;  "the  child  is  right!" 

With  swift  feet,  she  ran  for  her  father.  Through 
the  closed  door  she  told  him  what  she  had  discovered. 
Jose  bade  her  go  back  to  Basilio.  He  dressed  hur- 
riedly and  followed  her  to  the  little  fellow's  bedside. 

"Come  here,  el  hi  jo  mio,"  he  said  in  wistful  tones, 


WHISPERING  SAGE  105 

as  he  took  the  boy  into  his  arms.    "What  is  wrong?" 

"I  heard  guns — bad  guns.  And  I  pointed  my 
finger  where  I  heard  them,  and  it  was  toward  the  end 
of  the  bed — north!  And  I  saw  Esteban!  He  was 
hurt!" 

Jose  petted  and  caressed  him  until  his  tears  stopped. 
"There,  there,  don't  let  those  bad  dreams  upset  you, 
nino."  In  a  few  minutes  the  child  was  asleep. 

Then  Mercedes  and  her  father  tiptoed  downstairs. 
The  old  Basque  pulled  the  bell-cord  for  Mariano. 
When  the  mozo  appeared,  frightened  at  being  called 
at  this  unusual  hour,  Jose  ordered  him  to  get  his 
horse. 

Tears  filled  Mercedes's  eyes  as  she  saw  her  father 
take  down  his  rifle  and  fill  his  long-unused  belt  with 
cartridges.  His  set  face  and  sparing  words  did  not 
serve  to  lessen  her  dread. 

Jose  sighed  and  sank  into  a  chair.  Mercedes  came 
to  him  and  put  her  arm  about  his  shoulders. 

1 1  The  vagaries  .  .  .  the  misunderstandings  of  youth 
.  .  .  And  still  he  has  been  a  good  boy — a  good  son. 
But,  qu&rida,  a  boy  is  only  a  boy!  He  forgets  that, 
and  I  need  him  now.  Vdlgame  Dios!  I  hope  I  find 
him." 

A  hot  tear  from  Mercedes's  eyes  fell  on  his  cheek. 
He  drew  her  face  down  close  to  his. 

"Don't  cry,  nina,"  he  begged.  "Tears  in  your 
eyes  always  bring  your  mother  close  to  me.  And, 
oh,  you  are  so  like  her,  so  like  her,  little  one.  We  '11 
say  a  prayer  for  her  before  I  go." 


106  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Jose 's  eyes  were  misty  when  he  got  to  his  feet,  and 
to  hide  his  emotion  he  stormed  at  the  overdue 
Mariano. 

Mercedes  caught  her  father's  hand.  She  did  not 
want  him  to  go.  Bather,  she  wanted  him  to  go,  but 
fear  tugged  at  her  heart  and  made  her  afraid  of  see- 
ing him  leave. 

Jose  bent  down  from  his  saddle  to  kiss  her.  Mer- 
cedes clung  to  him. 

"I  am  afraid,"  she  said  in  tones  choked  with  emo- 
tion. 

"Afraid!" 

"For  you,  Father.  Why  not  wait  until  sun-up?" 
She  held  his  hand  to  her  face.  He  shook  his  head. 
"You  will  be  careful,  dear?  I  '11  wait  up  until  you 
come  back." 

"Don't  do  that,  muchacha,"  the  old  man  pleaded. 
"I  11  find  Morrow,  and  learn  from  him  if  there  has 
been  any  trouble.  I  '11  be  back  in  two  hours.  Adios, 
querida!" 

When  Jose  had  crossed  the  creek  he  held  to  the 
north  until  he  came  to  the  entrance  of  Smoky  Canon. 
In  happier  times  he  would  have  used  the  trail  that 
led  through  it  to  the  mesa  above,  whence  an  old  wood- 
road  crossed  to  the  Bull's  Head. 

He  turned  his  horse  into  the  longer  trail  that  led 
to  the  fence  and  up  to  the  Chimney.  As  he  did  so, 
a  gun  flashed  from  the  rim-rocks  above  him.  His 
horse  jumped,  and  Jose  lurched  and  fell  head  fore- 
most to  the  ground.  He  rolled  over  on  his  side  in  a 


WHISPERING  SAGE  107 

brief  convulsion  and  then  lay  still.  No  moan  or  sigh 
of  pain  escaped  him. 

On  the  rocks  high  above,  a  tall  figure  arose  and 
peered  down  at  his  victim.  A  second  and  he  was 
gone.  The  sound  of  a  galloping  horse  came  down 
the  canon.  It  rapidly  died  away. 

Jose's  horse  stared  at  his  fallen  master.  He  came 
close  and  nudged  him  with  his  nose.  But  the  wide- 
open,  unseeing  eyes  of  the  man  who  had  ridden  him 
so  long  were  glazed  in  death. 

Old  Ironsides  would  never  ride  the  trails  again ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

LONG-  before  the  first  faint  hint  of  dawn  had 
tinged  the  sky,  the  Rancho  Buena  Vista  was 
awake.  Mercedes  was  ashen.  First  her  brother  and 
then  her  father  had  ridden  away  and  had  failed  to 
return. 

Unable  to  stand  inaction  any  longer,  she  left  the 
house  and  walked  as  far  as  the  creek-bottom  where 
her  father  had  crossed,  listening  for  any  sound  that 
might  announce  his  return. 

The  stillness  oppressed  her.  Thoroughly  frightened, 
she  ran  back  to  the  hacienda  and  roused  Mariano. 
Teresa,  his  wrinkled  and  superannuated  wife,  came 
with  her  lord. 

The  tone  in  which  she  commanded  him  to  hurry 
made  the  old  mozo  move  faster  than  he  had  been  wont 
to  do  for  some  years.  Teresa  opened  her  eyes,  too. 

"When  Mariano  returned  with  only  Henaro,  Mer- 
cedes's face  fell.  She  had  not  known  that  her  father 
had  sent  the  other  men  to  the  railroad  with  sheep. 
But  she  lost  no  time  in  despatching  the  vaquero  for 
Kent.  Old  Mariano  was  put  to  service ;  she  sent  him 
to  Ugarde's  place,  because  it  was  nearest. 

" Don't  come  back  until  you  find  them,"  she  or- 
dered. "At  daylight  I  will  go  myself  to  the  Bull's 
Head.  Senor  Acklin  will  talk  to  me !  If  my  father 

108 


WHISPERING  SAGE  109 

or  brother  return  before  I  leave,  you  shall  be  told. 
And  if  you  have  word,  take  no  thought  of  your  horses 
in  getting  it  to  me.  Ride!" 

The  men  went  out,  and  Mercedes  sent  Teresa  up- 
stairs to  Basilio.  The  old  Indian  obeyed,  but  she 
wagged  her  head  from  side  to  side  as  she  left,  chanting 
oracularly  in  a  voice  that  Mercedes  could  not  help 
but  hear:  "Por  Dios!  For  Dios!  The  walls  are 
damp;  the  ditches  smell;  last  night  the  sun  paled  as 
it  went  to  bed;  the  dogs  ate  grass:  sorrow,  sorrow 
...  I  could  hear  the  crow 's  black  wings ! ' ' 

The  closing  door  put  an  end  to  her  dismal  words. 
Mercedes  caught  her  pinto  and  saddled  him.  A  pale 
yellow  tinged  the  sky  above  the  eastern  range.  The 
cold  yellow  became  pink;  a  frigid  unreal  pink:  cool 
blues  and  purples  followed.  And  then,  tone  by  tone, 
fire  and  warmth  and  life  crept  into  the  sky.  It  was 
dawn !  So  long  she  sat  in  her  saddle  without  moving. 
No  sound  of  hurrying  horsemen  reached  her. 

Loping  along  in  the  still  uncertain  light,  Mercedes's 
mind  centered  on  the  Bull 's  Head  and  what  she  would 
find  there.  Acklin's  shadow  darkened  all  of  her 
thoughts.  But  even  so  she  became  aware  of  the  in- 
sistence of  the  coyotes'  barking.  It  was  not  their 
short  yip-yipping  so  much  as  the  long-drawn,  almost 
wolfish  cry  that  followed.  It  told  her  plainly  enough 
that  they  had  cornered  something  and  were  waiting 
for  the  kill. 

Mercedes  sent  her  horse  into  a  gallop.  When  she 
topped  a  shallow  arroyo  her  heart  stopped  beating  as 
she  caught  sight  of  her  father's  powerful  bay  stand- 


110  WHISPERING  SAGE 

ing  riderless,  his  head  lowered  and  sweeping  from 
side  to  side. 

Something  snapped  in  the  girl.  She  lashed  her  pony 
into  a  neck-breaking  pace.  As  she  drew  near,  she 
saw  the  bay's  eyes  were  rolling.  He  snorted  as  she 
she  came  on,  but  continued  to  lace  out  right  and  left 
with  his  hind  legs. 

Ringed  about  him,  red  tongues  sliding  out  over  their 
wet  fangs,  crouched  the  coyote  pack.  Rabies  had 
spread  among  them  so  generally  that  they  were  no 
longer  the  skulking  cowards  they  had  been.  Mercedes 
emptied  her  gun  at  them;  they  slunk  away. 

She  walked  her  pinto  to  where  the  other  horse 
stood  swaying.  And  then — there  at  his  feet,  she  saw 
the  huddled  body  of  her  father.  Her  flesh  quivered; 
her  muscles  refused  to  act. 

"Oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!"  she  moaned;  it  was  a  sob  of 
titter  grief  such  as  wild  animals  voice  when  they  are 
stabbed  to  the  heart.  "Without  knowing  how  she  ac- 
complished it,  she  slid  to  the  ground.  The  bay  backed 
off. 

Mercedes  got  to  her  knees  and  felt  her  father's 
cold  hand.  She  promised  herself  she  would  be  brave ; 
that  she  would  not  give  way.  Then  with  sickening 
heart,  she  saw  the  terrible  wound.  Tenderly  her 
hands  caressed  his  snow-white  beard  and  hair;  the 
cheeks  so  cold;  the  fine  strong  forehead,  rugged  even 
in  death. 

Tears  swam  in  her  eyes.  She  begged  him  to  speak 
to  her.  "Come  back  to  me  ...  come,  come!  Father 


WHISPERING  SAGE  111 

.  .  .  Father  .  .  .  Father  .  .  .  Don't  leave  me  like 
this.  Don't  .  .  .  don't  .  .  .  don't  .  .  .  oh!" 

Then  slowly  and  surely  the  truth  began  to  creep 
into  her  tortured  brain.  Conviction  grew  and  settled 
upon  her.  He  was  never  coming  back.  Never ! 

Her  tears  ceased.  Into  her  face  came  the  stoical 
hardness  of  the  Basque.  In  this  minute  Mercedes 
left  girlhood  behind.  She  thought  of  her  brother. 
Had  he  shared  a  like  fate?  Dry-eyed  she  faced  that 
possibility.  The  depths  of  her  had  been  sounded  at 
her  dead  father's  side. 

Trance-like,  she  got  to  her  feet  and  picked  up  his 
rifle.  She  broke  it,  to  find  that  it  had  not  been  dis- 
charged. She  laid  it  beside  him.  The  big  bay  watched 
her  carefully.  Mercedes  called  the  horse  to  her.  She 
stroked  his  nose.  "He  '11  never  ride  you  again,  Car- 
bajal." 

The  sun  was  clear  of  the  mountains.  Above  her 
the  buzzards  began  to  circle.  She  scanned  the  horizon 
nervously.  What  was  she  to  do  ?  The  threat  of  the 
arching  sun  made  the  moving  of  her  father's  body 
imperative.  The  scavenger  horde,  gathering  above, 
only  waited  for  the  girl  to  leave.  Her  own  puny 
strength  was  not  equal  to  the  task  of  lifting  her  dead 
to  the  bay's  back. 

There  came  then,  down  Smoky  Canon,  the  pitter- 
patter  of  a  horse.  Mercedes  caught  sight  of  him  as 
he  struck  the  flat  that  stretched  back  into  the  rocky 
defile.  With  a  thrill  she  recognized  Kildare. 

When  Blaze  saw  who  it  was  ahead  of  him,  his  knees 


112  WHISPERING  SAGE 

bored  into  his  horse's  sides,  and  My  Man  raced  to 
where  Mercedes  stood.  The  grim  figure  on  the 
ground,  the  overwrought  girl,  and  the  empty-saddled 
bay  told  their  own  story.  The  message  he  brought 
her  would  have  to  wait  now.  He  jumped  down,  and 
unconsciously,  in  his  instant  sympathy,  held  out  both 
his  hands  to  her.  Without  knowing  that  she  did  so, 
her  fingers  caught  and  held  them. 

Blaze  shot  rapid  questions  at  Mercedes.  As  she  re- 
told her  discovery  of  her  father's  body,  she  cried  in 
spite  of  her  determination  not  to. 

" Don't  cry,  little  woman,"  Blaze  murmured  con- 
solingly. "Your  father  was  a  good  man.  You  Ve 
nothing  but  fine  memories  left  of  him.  It  's  hard  to 
see  him  go  this  way ;  but  whoever  killed  him  will  pay 
for  it.  I  promise  you  that." 

He  got  down  beside  Jose  and  examined  the  torn 
chest. 

"A  long-range  gun  and  a  high-power  bullet  did 
this, '  '  he  told  her.  After  he  got  to  his  feet  he  scanned 
the  ragged  rim-rocks  nervously;  and  sought  for  an 
excuse  to  get  the  girl  away.  "You  'd  better  ride 
to  the  hacienda  and  get  a  rig;  that  is,  if  you  think 
you  're  able  to  make  it." 

"If  you  will  wait,  I"ll  go  at  once,"  Mercedes  an- 
swered. 

"I  'm  only  too  glad  to  help  you." 

Mercedes 's  eyes  showed  her  appreciation. 

"You  are  very  kind,  Senor.  Some  day  I  may  be 
able  to  pay  you  back. ' ' 


WHISPERING  SAGE  113 

"I  've  got  all  the  pay  I  need  right  now,  Senorita, ' ' 
Blaze  mumbled  as  he  helped  her  into  her  saddle  and 
stood  beside  her,  hat  in  hand.  "I  aim  to  be  your 
friend,  if  you  '11  let  me." 

Mercedes's  sad  eyes  searched  his  face. 

"I  have  great  need  of  a  friend,  Senor." 

Impulsively  she  placed  her  hand  on  his  head.  In 
low  tones  she  murmured:  " There  is  a  Basque  his- 
toric .  .  .  what  you  call  ...  a  ...  a  ...  saying: 
'La  verdad  es  amarga;  quien  te  la  dice  te  estima.' 
The  truth  is  bitter;  he  who  speaks  like  that  to  thee 
esteems  thee  very  much."  Mercedes  paused.  The 
man's  eyes  held  her  own.  "We  will  speak  the  truth 
to  each  other,  I  guess,  Senor." 

Straight-backed,  the  little  thoroughbred  rode  off. 
Blaze  watched  her  until  she  was  out  of  sight.  "God 
bless  you, ' '  he  murmured  aloud.  "  I  11  keep  my  word 
with  you." 


CHAPTER  XIY 

carefulness  with  which  Kildare  examined  the 
A  death  wound,  now  that  he  was  alone,  and  the 
patience  with  which  he  set  about  locating  as  nearly 
as  possible  the  spot  from  which  the  assailant  had  fired 
his  bullet,  were  methodically  efficient. 

In  a  dozen  ways  he  pictured  the  shooting;  but  al- 
ways, by  the  simple  means  of  deduction  and  common- 
sense,  his  answer  led  him  to  the  point  of  rocks  above 
him.  As  his  reasoning  continued  to  bring  him  time 
after  time  to  the  same  conclusion,  he  became  ob- 
sessed with  the  desire  to  examine  the  ledge. 

Blaze  eyed  the  buzzards  circling  above  him;  he 
picked  up  Jose 's  gun  and  killed  three  of  them.  With 
a  wild  screeching,  the  feathered  horde  rose  until  it 
was  a  mere  speck  against  the  sky. 

Hurriedly  Blaze  turned  Jose's  face  downward  and 
pulled  the  old  man's  coat  over  the  head.  Quickly 
then  he  tore  off  his  own  shirt  and  vest,  and  draped 
them  over  a  dead  sage-brush.  On  top  of  it  he  placed 
his  hat.  The  result  was  a  crude  scare-crow.  Leaping 
into  his  saddle,  he  galloped  off  before  the  feathered 
scavengers  should  return  to  discover  his  deception. 

When  he  had  gained  the  rim-rocks,  Blaze  crawled 
on  hands  and  knees  to  their  edge.  For  twenty 
yards,  he  studied  the  decayed  rock.  He  came  to  a 

114 


WHISPERING  SAGE  115 

flat  spot,  three  yards  square.  Fine  sand  filled  the 
pockets  in  the  decomposed  granite.  In  one  of  them 
there  was  the  unmistakable  imprint  of  a  boot-mark. 
Blaze  threw  himself  down  beside  it  and  stretched  his 
length  as  he  imagined  the  assassin  had  done.  Op- 
posite the  indentions  his  elbow  made  as  he  held  a 
fancied  rifle  he  found  the  mark  of  the  other's  arm. 
But  the  man  was  taller  than  he.  The  distance  from 
toe-mark  to  elbow  was  a  good  five  inches  longer  than 
the  impressions  his  own  body  made. 

Without  disturbing  the  sand,  Blaze  searched  for 
other  signs  that  might  tell  him  something.  In  a  hol- 
low, about  where  the  waist  of  the  assailant  should 
have  come,  he  discovered  the  die-clear  stamp  of  a 
Navajo  luck-charm.  The  outlines  were  clear  and  dis- 
tinct. If  lead  had  been  poured  into  the  impression 
it  would  have  hardened  into  a  crude  duplicate  of  the 
charm  which  had  made  the  mold. 

Kildare  's  brow  wrinkled  as  he  stared  at  the  cryptic 
Indian  letters.  The  two  crossed  and  inverted  capital 
L  's  were  used  on  gun-butts,  wristlets,  buttons,  and  all 
the  other  cow-boy  equipment  that  was  made  at  Pen- 
dleton.  The  lower  tip  of  the  swastika  was  bent  in- 
ward. 

"Looks  as  if  a  watch-charm  made  that  mark,"  he 
murmured  to  himself.  "That  ought  to  prove  some- 
thing some  day,  maybe.  Wonder  where  the  empty 
sheU  is." 

It  lay  in  the  roots  of  a  dwarfed  sage-brush,  two 
yards  away,  where  the  ejector  had  thrown  it. 

He  was  about  to  leave  when,  on  second  thought,  he 


116  WHISPERING  SAGE 

covered  the  marks  in  the  sand  with  rocks  so  that 
they  would  not  be  effaced. 

A  moving  dust-cloud  that  hugged  the  Rebel  caught 
his  eye  as  it  grew  in  the  distance.  "That  '11  be  her, 
poor  little  devil, ' '  he  said  to  himself.  A  half  an  hour 
later  he  had  donned  his  shirt  and  hat  and  awaited 
the  girl's  arrival. 

Little  Basilio  sat  beside  Mercedes  as  she  drew  up 
her  team.  She  had  found  that  the  men  had  not 
returned  to  the  Rancho. 

Blaze  reached  up  his  hands  to  lift  the  little  fellow 
to  the  ground.  "Hello,  little  chief,"  he  murmured, 
trying  to  take  the  droop  out  of  the  lad's  mouth. 

The  child  recognized  the  friendly  voice.  He  dug 
his  little  fists  into  his  blind  eyes  in  a  vain  attempt  to 
check  his  tears. 

"Wh — wha — where  's  my  daddy,  Senor  Blaze?" 
he  echoed. 

Basilio  knew  his  father's  features  only  through  the 
touch  of  his  sensitive  fingers.  And  now,  as  he  knelt 
beside  the  still  form,  he  felt  for  the  beloved  mouth 
and  nose  and  cheeks.  "When  his  repeated  pleadings 
failed  to  arouse  the  old  man,  he  wailed  out  the  agony 
in  his  soul. 

Dry-eyed,  Mercedes  watched  as  Blaze  held  the  little 
fellow  on  his  knee  and  petted  him.  Basilio  had  been 
friendly  with  My  Man  once  before,  so  Kildare  put  him 
on  the  horse's  back  now.  My  Man  arched  his  neck 
and  whinnied  as  he  regarded  the  boy.  The  child  was 
reassured  immediately. 

Then,  with  Mercedes's  help,  all  that  was  left  of  Old 


WHISPERING  SAGE  117 

Ironsides  was  placed  in  the  wagon.  While  they  had 
been  busy  at  their  task,  Basilio  had  continued  his 
friendship  with  the  horse.  They  were  ready  to  go 
now,  and  both  Mercedes  and  Blaze  turned  inquiring 
eyes  at  the  boy.  He  was  busily  playing  with  the 
canteen  that  hung  from  the  saddle.  Mercedes's  face 
grew  wistful  as  she  regarded  the  little  fellow.  On  the 
heels  of  this,  gratitude  for  the  man's  thoughtfulness 
showed,  too. 

* '  I  want  a  drink  from  your  water-bag,  Senor  Blaze, 
please,"  the  child  begged. 

Mercedes  looked  at  Kildare,  and  as  he  nodded  ready 
consent,  she  reached  to  the  horn  of  the  saddle  to 
lift  the  canteen  to  the  boy's  lips.  Unconsciously,  she 
turned  it  over  in  her  hands.  There,  stenciled  on  the 
wet  canvas  covering,  she  saw  the  capital  "A  A"  with 
which  Acklin  stamped  his  property. 

' '  Oh-h-h !  Oh-h-h ! "  she  moaned.  In  that  first  ex- 
clamation there  was  instant  anger  and  hatred;  but 
the  second  held  only  a  hurt,  and  comprehension  of 
shattered  faith.  Too  late,  Blaze  understood.  But  be- 
fore he  could  speak,  Mercedes  caught  up  the  canteen, 
and  tiger-like  hurled  it  to  the  ground.  Swinging  on 
her  heels  she  faced  him.  "You — a  Double  A  man?" 
She  waited  for  no  answer.  Her  lips  curled  in  con- 
tempt :  "A  Double  A  spy  I ' ' 

Blaze  felt  his  face  go  white.  With  cruel  insistence 
Mercedes's  flaming  eyes  swept  him. 

"And  I  trusted  you!  Fool  that  I  was!  Siento 
mucho  que  listed  se  hay  a  molestado,"  she  cried, 
breaking  into  Spanish  hysterically  as  her  over- 


118  WHISPERING  SAGE 

wrought  nerves  collapsed.  "I  rather  see  my  father 
lie  here  for  those  birds  in  the  air  than  you  should 
have  touch  him.  O  Holy  Virgin,  have  you  no  heart  ? ' ' 
she  moaned,  as  the  tears  choked  her.  "It  is  not 
enough  that  they  kill  my  father;  Senor  Acklin  must 
send  you  here  to  spy  and  pretend  to  help  me/' 

"Don't  convict  me  without  giving  me  a  chance  to 
defend  myself/'  Kildare  pleaded.  "I  am  a  Double 
A  man;  but  I  didn't  come  here  to  spy.  You  don't 
know  what  you  've  said.  Spy?  I  'd  sure  take  that 
word  from  no  man!  Why  do  you  say  Acklin  killed 
your  father?" 

"Who  else  so  much  wanted  him  out  of  the  way? 
He  had  no  enemies.  Acklin!"  It  was  an  unholy 
word  as  she  uttered  it:  "And  his  greed;  they  were 
all  my  father  feared." 

"Even  so,"  Blaze  countered,  "it  's  not  a  cow-man's 
way  to  shoot  in  the  back  or  from  ambush.  I  was 
going  to  the  hacienda  when  I  met  you." 

There  was  frank  disbelief  in  the  girl 's  eyes.  Blaze 
knew  there  was  nothing  to  do  now  but  to  tell  her 
the  truth. 

"We  had  some  shooting  at  the  fence  last  night. 
Esteban— " 

' '  Esteban  ?    Is  he  killed,  too  ? " 

"No,  he  's  just  wounded.  The  Big  Boss  sent  me 
down  to  get  you.  That  's  the  business  that  brought 
me  here.  We  took  the  boy  in  as  soon  as  we  found 
him.  He  '11  be  all  right  in  a  week  or  so." 

"The  Double  A  covers  itself  with  the  blood  of  my 
people,"  she  cried. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  119 

"Esteban  got  his  fair  and  square,"  Blaze  an- 
swered with  heat.  I  don't  aim  to  trail  with  a  crowd 
that  kills  old  men  from  cover.  That  's  not  my  cut! 
I  'd  do  anything  I  could  to  ease  the  ache  you  've  got 
in  your  heart.  We  are  goin'  to  go  now.  We  can't 
stay  here/' 


CHAPTER  XV 

KENT  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  Rancho. 
Henaro  had  caught  him  and  brought  him  back 
as  he  was  about  to  leave  for  Winnemucca.  Jose's 
death  affected  Tuscarora  visibly.  He  tried  his  best 
to  console  Mercedes. 

When  they  had  finished  their  sad  task,  the  two  men 
went  outside. 

"I  told  you  there 'd  be  killin',"  he  murmured. 

'  *  I  know,  but  do  you  believe  this  fight  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  old  man's  death?" 

"Do  I?"  There  was  no  mistaking  his  tone. 
"What  do  you  say?  I  'd  sure  like  to  hear  any  other 
reason  for  it." 

"Well,  just  the  same,  I  don't  believe  the  Double  A 
had  anything  to  do  with  it. ' ' 

"I  don't  suppose  you  do,"  Tuscarora  answered  not 
unkindly.  "You  know  what  I  think  about  Acklin. 
The  two  of  you  don't  belong  in  the  same  county. 
You  '11  learn!" 

Tuscarora  retold  the  way  in  which  Old  Ironsides 
had  stood  up  for  law  and  order  at  the  meeting. 

' '  That 's  why  they  wanted  him  out  of  the  way, ' '  he 
went  on.  "Jose  wasn't  fooled  a  bit  by  Acklin  or 
Bodine;  so  they  got  him."  He  paused,  his  mouth 
cold  and  hard.  "I  suppose  they  '11  get  me  next. 

120 


WHISPERING  SAGE  121 

Well!  That  won't  be  so  bad.  I  've  risked  my  skin 
times  a-plenty  for  less.  But  if  I  live  I  aim  to  find 
out  who  did  the  killing. " 

Blaze  was  about  to  voice  his  own  determination  to 
do  likewise  when  Mercedes  joined  them,  ready  for  the 
ride  to  the  Bull's  Head.  A  stoical  calmness  rested 
upon  her,  leaving  her  a  beautiful,  madonna-like  crea- 
ture. 

Tuscarora  rode  with  them  for  a  mile  before  he 
turned  for  town.  He  had  offered  to  see  the  under- 
taker and  priest  and  do  those  other  errands  which 
death  makes  necessary. 

When  they  rode  into  the  yard  at  the  Bull's  Head, 
Acklin  met  them.  He  dismissed  Kildare  with  a  curt 
nod  but  turned  a  covetous,  ingratiating  smile  on 
Mercedes.  The  whiteness  of  her  face  and  her  tired 
eyes  were  not  lost  on  Acklin. 

"Even  though  it  's  bad  business  that  brings  you 
to  the  Bull's  Head,"  he  said  sympathetically,  in  an 
attempt  to  draw  her  out,  "I  'm  mighty  glad  to  wel- 
come you.  This  is  the  first  chance  you  've  ever  given 
me  to  do  it,  Mercedes." 

"I  do  not  come  here  to  make  talk,  Senor  Acklin. 
Where  is  my  brother?" 

"Why,  he  's  upstairs.  Melody  is  looking  after 
him, ' '  he  went  on  in  an  effort  to  conciliate  her.  * '  I  'm 
right  sorry  the  boy  was  hurt.  He  should  have  minded 
his  own  business.  I  was  n't  here  when  this  fight  hap- 
pened. Anyways,  you  shouldn't  be  so  down  on  me. 
When  this  thing  has  all  blown  over,  you  '11  find  that 
I  'm  your  friend." 


122  WHISPERING  SAGE 

His  words  fell  on  deaf  ears.  The  impatience  and 
annoyance  which  flashed  alternately  into  her  eyes 
were  the  only  signs  she  gave  that  she  had  heard.  At 
that  moment,  Acklin  would  have  given  his  soul  to 
have  taken  her  beautiful  body  into  his  arms  and 
smothered  her  red  lips  with  his  kisses.  Mercedes 
must  have  guessed  his  thought.  She  looked  to  where 
Kildare  lounged  on  the  porch  with  Chet  Devine. 

"You  sent  word  to  me  that  Esteban  is  shot,"  she 
said  icily ;  * '  that  he  is  here !  I  came  willingly.  If  my 
brother  is  here,  take  me  to  him." 

' '  Oh,  what  's  the  matter,  Senorita  ? ' '  Acklin  purred. 
"Of  course  he  's  here.  You  can  see  him  right  now. 
Come  on!" 

Mercedes  followed  the  big  ranchman  along  the 
porch  to  where  the  two  riders  sat  opposite  the  en- 
trance to  the  stairway.  As  they  drew  near  they  heard 
a  voice  raised  in  song;  a  wild,  rollicking,  not  overly 
proper  bunk-house  song.  Blaze  and  Chet  had  evi- 
dently been  taking  it  in. 

The  singer  began  another  verse: 

I  battered  down  to  old  Salt  Lake, 

And  found  the  prophets  just  a  fake. 

Dodgin'  wives  has  soured  their  lives; 

It  'e  changed  their  laughs  to  frowns. 

You  never  see  them  smile  no  more  in  the  Mormon  towns. 

Gid-di-ap,  gid-di-ap,  who  said  polygamy! 

Oh,  I  will  never  settle  down, 

A  bachelor  I  will  be, 

I  '11  get  a  ... 

Acklin  stopped  in  the  doorway,  impeding  Mer- 
cedes's entrance.  "Tell  him  to  stop  that  noise,"  he 
demanded  of  Chet. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  123 

"Hey!  Ladies  present,  Melody !"  Chet  called. 
"Cut  the  song." 

Melody  stuck  his  flaming  head  over  the  banister 
above  them,  and  called:  "  'S'all  right!  Just  made 
his  bed." 

To  Acklin's  chagrin,  Mercedes  shook  hands  with 
Melody. 

"Sorry  you  heard  me  singin'  that-a-way,"  the 
red-haired  one  went  on.  "But  that  song  's  the  real 
McCoy,  though.  It  actually  had  your  brother 
smilin'." 

He  led  them  to  where  Esteban  lay. 

The  meeting  between  the  wounded  boy  and  his 
sister  was  more  than  the  sensitive  singer  could  stand. 
Not  knowing  what  lay  back  of  the  girl's  reticence 
when  she  failed  to  answer  why  their  father  had  not 
come  with  her,  he  turned  and  went  downstairs. 

"Come  on,  Melody,"  Chet  begged.  "Finish  that 
song." 

But  something  too  deep  for  words  lay  on  the  spirit 
of  the  alkali  poet.  For  once  he  failed  to  rise  to  the 
occasion. 

"What's  up?"  he  asked  Blaze.  "That  girl's 
harder  hit  than  that  wound  of  the  kid's  should  cause 
her  to  be.  I  couldn't  stand  it." 

1  '  That  explains  it ! "  Melody  exclaimed  when  Blaze 
finished  telling  him  about  the  death  of  Old  Ironsides. 
"She  was  game  to  come  here,  thinkin'  all  the  time 
that  a  Double  A  bullet  got  her  old  man.  I  'd  give 
my  shirt  to  know  who  did  get  him." 

Acklin  came  down  and  went  to  his  office.    As  soon 


124  WHISPERING  SAGE 

as  the  big  man  left  them,  Esteban  begged  his  sister 
to  ask  his  father  to  forgive  him  for  his  disobedience. 

He  told  of  the  fight.  "Our  crowd  ran!  Only 
Romero  and  I  stayed  to  the  end.  At  least,  father 
knows  I  am  not  a  coward/7 

Mercedes  turned  away;  her  brother's  reference  to 
their  father  filled  her  eyes  with  tears. 

She  glanced  hurriedly  at  Esteban. 

"You  are  going  home  with  me,"  she  asserted.  "At 
once!" 

Through  the  open  window  she  called  to  Melody  and 
Blaze. 

"Will  you  tell  the  Senor,"  she  said,  "that  I  am 
going  to  take  my  brother  with  me  now?" 

Melody  was  back  in  a  minute. 

"The  Big  Boss  says  he  can't  be  taken  out,"  he 
reported  in  a  crestfallen  manner. 

Esteban 's  eyes  flashed.  Some  of  Mercedes's  old  fire 
came  back  to  her. 

"What  has  he  to  do  with  it?"  she  demanded.  "I 
take  him  when  I  want  to !  I  will  tell  him  so ! " 

She  found  Acklin  in  his  office.  He  greeted  her, 
seemingly,  in  a  friendly  spirit. 

"Well,  Mercedes,"  he  remarked,  "your  brother  is 
cheerful  enough.  He  '11  pull  through." 

"I  want  to  take  him  home." 

Acklin  got  out  of  his  chair. 

"Oh,  no,  not  right  away!" 

"Yes,  right  away,  Senor!" 

A  hard  look  came  into  the  eyes  of  the  feudal  lord : 
"You  can't  take  him!  Don't  you  know  that  if  I 


WHISPERING  SAGE  125 

turned  him  over  to  the  sheriff,  he  would  go  to  the 
pen  for  last  night's  work?" 

Acklin  came  toward  her;  but  she  held  her  ground. 

"He  can't  leave  here  until  I  say  so,"  he  exclaimed. 

He  made  a  movement  to  reach  for  her  hand,  but 
something  in  her  eyes  held  him  back. 

"I  am  not  afraid!"  Her  voice  was  defiant.  "If 
my  brother  go  to  jail,  you  go,  too.  Not  to  jail,  Senor; 
to  the  hangman!" 

"What  are  you  getting  at?"  Acklin  cried. 

"You  know  very  well  what  I  am  getting  at,  you 
beast!  My  father  was  killed  last  night;  shot  dead; 
while  he  was  riding  here!" 

Acklin 's  face  blanched. 

"Good  God!    Not  dead?" 

"You  should  know,  Senor!" 

"I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  do  you  hear?"  His 
voice  rose  with  a  nasty  threat.  "I  don't  shoot  from 
ambush. ' ' 

"You  had  more  to  gain  by  that  shooting  than  any 
one  else!  You  have  been  afraid  of  my  father.  My 
father  wanted  everything  kept  within  the  law.  That 
is  why  he  was  killed!" 

The  sound  of  their  loud  talking  had  reached  Melody, 
who  had  come  downstairs  on  an  alleged  errand. 

Mercedes  saw  him.  ' '  Senor  Acklin  has  changed  his 
mind,"  she  stated.  "Will  you  get  my  brother 
ready?" 

Melody  looked  at  the  Big  Boss  for  confirmation  of 
this  order.  He  nodded  his  head  and,  turning  to  his 
own  quarters,  slammed  the  door  behind  him. 


126  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Blaze  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  Esteban's  bed 
'when  Melody  and  Mercedes  returned.  He  was  as 
•downcast  as  the  boy.  Acklin's  treatment  of  the  girl 
puzzled  him.  Was  it  possible. that  she  was  the  stake 
the  owner  of  the  Double  A  was  playing  for  ?  Kildare 
had  noticed  the  Big  Boss's  appraisal  of  Old  Iron- 
sides's  daughter.  Could  it  be  construed  into  a  motive 
for  killing  her  father? 

If  Blaze  had  been  free  to  do  as  he  pleased,  he  would 
not  have  sat  idly  by.  Life  was  losing  its  flavor.  He 
tried  to  throw  off  this  mood.  In  responding  to  it,  he 
knew  he  was  being  swaj'ed  by  sentiment.  And  senti- 
ment would  defeat  his  ends. 

Melody's  smile  had  taken  its  accustomed  place. 
Blaze  was  quick  to  notice  the  change  in  him. 

"The  kid  's  goin'  home  all  right,"  the  sorrel-topped 
one  informed  him. 

Esteban,  forgetting  his  nurse's  orders,  sat  up  in 
bed. 

1 '  Maybe  you  could  dress  him, ' '  Melody  went  on,  to 
Blaze.  "I  '11  go  down  and  see  about  a  rig  then." 

So  while  Mercedes  went  to  the  window,  Blaze  got 
her  brother  ready  for  the  trip  home.  He  called  to 
her  when  he  had  finished.  And  as  Mercedes  saw  the 
tender  way  in  which  he  cared  for  Esteban,  she  re- 
gretted her  unkind  words  of  that  morning. 

She  wanted  to  show  Blaze  that  she  appreciated  all 
he  had  done.  She  came  over  and  sat  on  the  bed 
beside  her  brother. 

Kildare  smiled  at  her.    He  had  drawn  up  a  chair 


WHISPERING  SAGE  127 

and  was  seated  alongside  of  Esteban.  Mercedes  made 
a  brave  attempt  to  smile  back  at  him.  Impulsively 
she  put  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

*  *  I  thank  you  so  much  for  all  you  have  done  for  me, 
Senor.  You  have  been  very  kind  to  us.  I  hope  you 
will  forgive  those  hot  words  of  mine." 

Blaze  felt  her  hand  tremble  in  his.  The  blood 
mounted  to  his  face.  '  *  I  have  n  't  done  anything,  Miss 
Mercedes,"  he  replied  with  embarrassment.  "That 
is — not  as  much  as  I  'd  like  to.  And  as  for  forgivin* 
you,  shucks!  there  isn't  anything  to  forgive." 

Esteban  wondered  just  what  the  import  of  this  talk 
was.  Had  it  anything  to  do  with  his  conduct  ?  Time 
after  time,  as  he  had  lain  there,  he  had  asked  himself 
why  Kildare  had  spared  him.  The  man's  kindness 
was  still  as  big  a  mystery  as  ever. 

"I  ought  to  ask  your  forgiveness,  too,"  he  said 
sincerely. 

1 '  You  ? ' '  Mercedes  caught  a  hint  of  mystery  in  her 
brother's  voice.  She  looked  at  Blaze.  He  got  to  his 
feet. 

"Better  forget  it,"  he  mumbled.  "Don't  amount 
to  anything." 

The  implication  was  plain  now.  The  girl  knew  she 
was  being  excluded  from  something. 

"What  have  you  done?"  she  demanded  of  Esteban. 

"He  can  thank  me  for  the  bullet  he  got  in  his 
shoulder.  I  shot  him — last  evening!" 

"Was  he  the  one  that  shot  you?"  Mercedes  asked. 

"No!    I  got  hit  when  we  came  back  later." 


128  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Blaze  stuck  his  head  out  of  the  window,  trying  to 
locate  Melody,  as  Esteban  told  his  sister  what  had 
happened  at  the  Chimney. 

"His  gun  was  against  my  ribs,"  he  finished;  "but 
when  he  recognized  me,  he  let  me  go." 

"You  tried  to  kill  him!  He  did  not  shoot  back? 
Madre  de  Dios!"  she  cried.  "And  I  called  him  a 
spy!" 

Blaze  came  toward  her  quickly  as  he  heard  her 
little  gasp.  "What  's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  looking 
from  one  to  the  other. 

"You  make  me  seem  ungrateful,  Senor,"  Mercedes 
said  in  a  whisper,  as  she  dabbed  at  her  eyes  with  a 
tiny  handkerchief.  "A  spy!  I  must  have  been  mad." 

Her  voice  broke  with  a  sob.  Mercedes  thought  she 
was  beyond  tears ;  Blaze  touched  her  hair  softly. 

"That  's  all  right,  little  girl.  You  folks  don't  owe 
me  anything.  You  were  pretty  excited  when  I  met 
you  this  morning — your  father  and " 

"Father?"  Esteban 's  face  went  white.  Blaze 
could  have  cut  off  his  tongue  for  his  slip. 

"What  's  that  about  father?"  the  boy  demanded 
again.  "Has  he  been  hurt — killed?  Did  somebody 
get  him?"  His  voice  rose  to  a  scream  as  he  tried  to 
get  to  his  feet. 

With  a  cry,  Mercedes's  head  dropped  to  the  edge 
of  the  bed.  In  spite  of  Kildare's  pleading,  she  broke 
down  and  wept  bitterly.  A  shadow  crossed  the  boy's 
face.  He  understood.  This  explained  everything  to 
him.  As  Blaze  watched  the  young  Basque  he  seemed 
to  grow  mature ;  to  be  touched  by  the  hand  of  time. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  129 

"Pobre  de  mi  padre!"  he  cried.  His  breath  seemed 
to  stop.  Murder  came  into  his  eyes. 

Kildare  turned  to  Mercedes.  As  Blaze  did  so,  Este- 
ban  managed  to  get  to  his  feet  by  clutching  a  bed- 
post. Melody  came  in  just  then  and  caught  the  boy 
as  he  tottered. 

Esteban  struggled  to  free  himself  from  Melody's 
arms.  "Don't  touch  me!"  he  cried.  "Damn  the 
Double  A!" 

They  were  all  on  their  feet.  Blaze  tried  to  get 
hold  of  the  boy.  The  young  Basque  turned  on  him. 
"That  goes  for  you,  too,  Kildare.  I  don't  want  any 
favors  from  any  man  that  takes  his  bread  from 
Acklin." 

Mercedes  implored  him  to  stop.  "No!"  he  an- 
swered her.  ' '  Get  me  out  of  here  right  away.  I  don't 
care  if  I  die  on  the  way;  get  me  out  of  here!" 

The  boy  was  no  match  for  Melody's  strength. 
Against  his  will  he  was  forced  down  to  the  bed. 

"For  the  love  of  Pete!  "What  's  the  matter?"  the 
happy-go-lucky  poet  demanded. 

"Matter?  My  father's  been  killed!  Killed! 
Some  one  in  this  outfit  did  it,  too!" 

"You  don't  think  we  would  do  a  rotten  thing  like 
that,  do  you?"  Blaze  asked  sharply. 

"I  do!"  Esteban  glared  back  defiantly.  "Cow- 
men are  always  right,"  he  mocked;  "and  sheep-men 
are  always  wrong.  Say,  I  'm  sick  of  that  kind  of  talk. 
Get  me  out  of  here!" 

"Well,  you  can't  go  alone,"  Kildare  answered, 
"I  '11  take  you,  if  you  '11  let  me." 


130  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Please,"  Mercedes  begged.  "Don't  make  another 
scene. ' ' 

"Anything  to  get  away,"  replied  Esteban. 

"Guess  I  '11  have  to  drive  him  home,"  Melody 
stated. 

"How's  that?"  Blaze  asked  rather  pointedly. 

"When  I  drove  up  with  the  rig,  Acklin  called  me 
in  and  told  me  I  should  go.  If  you  '11  give  me  a  hand 
we  '11  get  started." 

Blaze  saw  them  off.  When  they  were  gone  he  tried 
to  sleep,  but  as  tired  as  he  was,  sleep  would  not  come. 

Overhead  the  sun  hung  in  the  sky,  a  copper-colored 
ingot  fresh  from  a  furnace.  Its  heat  waves  blistered 
the  poplars  and  crept  into  the  house.  McDermot,  the 
filer,  was  sharpening  tools  in  a  shed  in  the  yard. 
Every  time  he  put  steel  to  the  grindstone,  the  result- 
ing screech  sent  a  shiver  through  Kildare's  body. 

Charlie  was  hammering  his  supper-call  on  his  an- 
vil when  Melody  returned.  Blaze  came  downstairs, 
and  they  went  in  to  eat  together. 

* '  You  did  n  't  miss  anything  by  not  goin ', ' '  Melody 
began.  "The  girl  's  a  whiz,  as  I  've  always  said; 
but  Esteban  is  a  bad  hombre.  His  sister  stands  the 
gaff  better  than  he  does.  Things  are  beginnin'  to 
look  awful  in  the  valley.  The  alfalfa  is  a  sight !  The 
Hancho  's  just  burnt  brown." 

With  an  angry  clank  of  spur-chains,  Cash  strode 
into  the  room.  "Is  this  a  tea-party?"  he  bellowed. 
"Or  are  you  fellows  on  a  vacation?  Snap  it  up!  I 
want  you  on  that  fence  before  the  sun  goes  down." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  day  of  Jose's  funeral  dawned  bright  and 
clear.  Little  dust-clouds  rose  in  a  hundred 
places  from  the  desert  roads,  as  the  widely  scattered 
people  from  the  Little  Washoe  country  and  the  val- 
leys north  of  the  Humboldt  gathered  to  do  honor  to 
their  murdered  leader. 

As  they  rode  along  in  the  cool  of  the  early  morning, 
something  sad,  and  deeper  than  the  death  of  the  man 
they  had  made  their  leader  could  account  for,  sat 
upon  their  faces.  It  was  the  horror  of  failure.  In 
all  that  long  ride  they  saw  nothing  but  burnt-up  fields 
and  the  unchanging  sage.  Less  than  a  week  had 
passed  since  the  precious  water  had  been  denied,  but 
already  the  desert  was  beginning  to  reclaim  its  own. 
Here  and  there,  amid  the  rattling  husks  and  yellow 
leaves  of  the  once  green  corn  and  alfalfa,  a  newer, 
darker  green  appeared.  It  marked  the  places  where 
the  insidious  grease-wood  reared  its  tenacious  head. 

The  men  gritted  their  teeth ;  the  women  stared  va- 
cantly. In  the  mind  of  each  one  of  them  was  the  same 
grim  question:  had  their  saving,  and  suffering,  and 
toiling  been  in  vain  ? 

Quite  in  contrast  with  them  was  the  tall,  thin  man 
hunched  over  the  wheel  of  an  outlandish  contraption 
that  he  called  an  automobile.  But  the  alleged  auto- 

131 


132  WHISPERING  SAGE 

mobile,  for  all  its  lack  of  paint  and  its  unconcealed 
vitals,  was,  like  its  owner,  thoroughly  efficient.  The 
man  was  Brand,  coming  all  the  way  from  Winne- 
mucca.  He  clutched  the  wheel  of  the  car  as  he 
skidded  over  the  soapstone  patches  in  the  road. 

Brand  had  left  Winnemucca  before  breakfast. 
Mealtime,  however,  meant  little  in  his  existence.  A 
cigarette  to  take  the  edge  off  of  his  nerves  was  all  the 
nourishment  he  seemed  to  need.  All  his  life  he  had 
been  so  busy  worrying  about  other  folks  that  he  never 
had  found  time  to  worry  about  himself.  He  was  in 
politics ;  but  not  of  it.  There  is  quite  a  difference. 

The  thirsty,  restless  cattle  and  the  withered  crops 
might  cause  others  to  despair,  but  they  only  served 
to  stir  the  fighting  blood  in  Brand.  Acklin  and  he 
had  been  potential  enemies  for  so  long  that  he  viewed 
this  new  move  by  the  Double  A  with  little  or  no  sur- 
prise. Jose's  death,  however,  came  as  a  shock.  He 
wondered  about  Acklin 's  possible  connection  with  the 
killing. 

The  truth  would  not  down,  that  the  elimination  of 
the  old  Basque  removed  the  greatest  obstacle  in  the 
ranchman's  path.  "Was  it  possible  that,  somewhere 
among  political  wheels  the  Double  A  had  always  con- 
trolled, the  cogs  were  slipping?  Or  did  old  man 
Acklin 's  son  begin  to  hear  the  rumbling  of  public 
opinion,  and  doubt  the  security  of  his  position? 

The  big  interests  had  smiled  when  Brand  and  one 
or  two  others  first  attacked  them.  But  the  whisper 
had  grown  into  a  mighty  roar,  sufficient  to  reach  even 
to  the  stronghold  where  Adams  and  Acklin  had  held 


WHISPERING  SAGE  133 

forth  for  so  many  years.  All  over  northern  Nevada 
the  cry  was  being  raised :  the  big  ranches  must  go ! 

Acklin  was  proving,  at  that  moment,  his  keen  in- 
terest in  Jose's  passing.  He  was  in  his  office,  and 
Morrow  and  Kildare  were  with  him.  The  latter 's  face 
wore  a  sullen  look. 

Acklin  was  saying :  ' '  People  in  general  don 't  know 
you,  Kildare.  That  's  why  I  want  you  to  go.  You 
can  drop  in  at  the  church,  or  mix  in  with  the  crowd 
at  the  cemetery. " 

Something  in  Kildare  ?s  eyes  made  the  ranchman 
add:  "Not  that  I  want  you  to  do  any  spying.  I  just 
want  you  to  get  the  temper  of  that  crowd.  If  they  've 
had  enough  gun-play,  all  right.  If  not  I  want  to 
know  it." 

Blaze  nodded  his  head  a  little  and  pulled  his  hat 
lower  over  his  eyes.  He  had  been  carefully  scru- 
tinizing a  rifle  that  stood  behind  Acklin 's  desk.  He 
reached  over  and  picked  it  up  and  broke  it  open.  It 
was  an  almost  new  automatic.  He  threw  a  shell  out 
of  the  chamber. 

"I  reckon  I  'd  better  take  this,"  he  murmured 
offhandedly.  * '  The  old  iron  you  gave  me  when  I  came 
bucks  about  every  second  shot.  This  is  a  real  rifle; 
brand  new,  too. ' ' 

"Only  been  fired  a  couple  of  times,"  Acklin 
answered,  rather  proudly.  "I  Jm  going  after  bear 
with  it  this  fall  if  I  can  get  away.  I  don't  think 
yon  'd  better  take  it,  though." 

"No,  don't  take  any  gun,"  Cash  drawled.  "Ain't 
you  still  got  that  hat  trick  if  anybody  jumps  you?" 


134  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"That  's  right,  Kildare,"  Acklin  went  on.  "I  'm 
sending  you  because  I  particularly  don't  want  a 
fight.  You  had  better  get  started." 

Blaze  had  palmed  one  of  the  shells  from  Acklin 's 
gun ;  and  he  compared  it,  as  soon  as  he  got  away,  with 
the  one  he  had  found  on  the  rocks.  There  was  no 
question  of  their  likeness.  It  was  almost  conclusive 
proof  of  the  man's  guilt.  In  spite  of  this,  however, 
Kildare  tried  to  find  a  loophole.  But  if  the  Big  Boss 
were  not  guilty,  then  who  was? 

A  trail  led  from  the  creek  toward  the  little  ceme- 
tery. A  crowd  was  gathering  there  already.  Dis- 
mounting, he  led  his  horse  inside,  as  the  procession 
entered. 

The  Basques,  bareheaded  under  the  blazing  sun, 
murmured  age-old  Latin  prayers  for  the  repose  of 
their  leader,  as  the  body  was  lowered  to  its  last  resting- 
place.  Kildare  took  off  his  hat  and  whispered 
'  *  Amen ' '  in  unison  with  the  mourners.  It  was  an  un- 
conscious, reverential  touch ;  a  response  to  a  tug  at  his 
emotions  that  surprised  him. 

He  saw  Mercedes,  with  Basilio's  hand  in  hers, 
kneeling  beside  the  grave  as  the  earth  was  shoveled 
on  the  coffin.  It  fell  with  a  thud  that  found  an  echo 
in  his  heart.  Her  unhappiness  had  become  his  own. 
He  wanted  to  take  her  away,  to  make  her  forget  her 
grief.  As  if  in  response  to  his  penetrating  gaze,  she 
turned  and  saw  him. 

Their  eyes  conveyed  to  each  other  an  unspoken 
message.  Mercedes  seemed  to  appeal  dumbly  to  him 
in  her  misery.  Kildare  stepped  forward,  but  he 


WHISPERING  SAGE  135 

stopped  almost  immediately  as  he  saw  an  expression 
of  intense  fear  creep  over  the  girl's  face. 

Romero  and  Salvator  had  recognized  the  Double  A 
man. 

They  drew  near,  and  still  Blaze  made  no  move. 
Kent  wondered  why  he  did  not  draw.  It  dawned 
on  him  then  that  his  friend  wore  no  guns.  The  three 
of  them  saw  the  little  man  move  toward  them,  rifle 
held  thigh-high.  Romero  had  his  six-gun  ready  for 
action. 

''Drop  that  shootin '-iron  quick!"  Kent  commanded. 

It  was  said  so  quietly  that  not  a  whisper  reached 
those  beside  the  grave.  But  Romero  heard  and 
obeyed.  Tuscarora  was  not  fooling!  Save  for  Mer- 
cedes, no  one  in  the  crowd  had  been  conscious  of  their 
movements. 

She  saw  Romero  put  away  his  gun,  and  realizing 
that  the  crisis  had  passed  bent  her  head  and  echoed 
the  final  words  of  the  Litany  for  the  Dead. 

The  boys  glared  their  hatred  at  Blaze.  Tuscarora 
had  not  endeared  himself  to  them  by  his  intervention, 
either.  The  little  man  did  not  appear  to  mind. 

"This  ain't  no  time,  and  it  ain't  no  place  for  such 
goings  on,"  Kent  whipped  out. 

"Why  does  he  come  here?"  Romero  questioned 
savagely. 

"He  's  a  sneak  for  the  Double  A,"  Salvator  choked. 

Kildare's  blood  leaped. 

"I  '11  take  that  from  no  bosco!"  he  cried. 

He  used  the  cow-man's  term  of  contempt  for  the 
Basque,  with  a  shade  of  emphasis  that  meant  deadly 


136  WHISPERING  SAGE 

insult.  The  word  burned  on  his  lips  until  it  leaped 
out  to  pay  in  kind  for  the  insult  offered  by  the  hot- 
headed boy.  But  it  stopped  midway  on  its  passage. 
The  mourners  had  heard  and  were  gathering  about 
them.  Mercedes,  with  Basilio  clutching  at  her  dress, 
stood  between  them. 

"A  bosco?"  Romero  questioned  mockingly,  as  he 
went  for  his  gun. 

"Yes,  a  bosco!"  Salvator  fumed,  "a,  greaser,  only 
more  so,  eh  ? " 

Mercedes  caught  Romero's  arm. 

"You  see  how  he  comes  to  this  holy  spot  to  insult 
the  dead  and  sneer  at  the  living,"  Mercedes's  uncle 
cried  in  his  native  tongue. 

Blaze,  understanding  only  a  word,  caught  the  drift 
of  the  accusation  by  the  reflection  of  the  contending- 
emotions  in  the  girl's  eyes. 

"I  'm  sorry/'  he  told  her.  Rapidly  and  con- 
vincingly he  went  on:  "I  came  here  to  pay  what 
respect  I  might  to  your  father,  and " 

"And  yet  you  call  us  boscos?" 

Mercedes's  cheeks  were  red  with  shame.  If  he  had 
branded  her  with  the  word  "nigger"  he  could  not 
have  hurt  her  more.  Her  answer  had  been  so  low  that 
only  Blaze  had  heard,  yet  Tuscarora  caught  the  im- 
port of  it. 

"Kildare  was  tending  his  own  business,"  he  stated 
loud  enough  for  all  to  hear.  "These  boys  butted 
in  on  him — tried  to  jump  him.  We  won't  have  any 
rumpus. ' ' 

"Oh,  it  doesn't  matter."     Mercedes's  voice  was 


WHISPERING  SAGE  137 

tired.  Her  head  seemed  too  great  a  weight  for  her 
slender  neck  to  bear.  ' '  Our  ways  lie  far  apart, ' '  she 
went  on,  a  note  of  despair  creeping  into  her  words 
that  stabbed  Kildare.  "We  are  boscos.  We  won't 
forget  again!" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

LONG  after  the  mourners  had  dispersed,  Kildare 
and  Tuscarora  sat  in  their  saddles  at  the  gate  of 
the  cemetery.  The  gloom  that  had  settled  on  Blaze 
found  expression  in  his  taciturnity.  He  had  always 
come  up  smiling  under  the  punishment  and  hardships 
of  the  man- world  in  which  he  lived.  Life  had  a  habit 
of  buffeting  and  slamming  him  down,  even  as  the  sea 
does  with  her  chosen  ones.  But  like  the  sea,  life  here 
in  the  big  West  was  strong  and  clean.  It  could  whis- 
per little  songs  to  you;  it  could  thrill  you;  and  it 
always  left  you  ready  to  face  to-morrow.  That  was 
the  great  compensation. 

But  there  was  an  ache  in  his  heart  now  that  he 
was  helpless  to  combat;  it  was  something  new.  His 
eyes  followed  Mercedes  until  she  was  out  of  sight. 

Kent  surmised  what  was  going  on  in  his  friend's 
mind. 

"Well,  you  never  can  tell  about  women/'  he  said 
wisely.  "She  's  only  a  girl  yet;  quien  sabe;  who 
knows  ?  I  caught  that  look  in  her  eyes  when  she  saw 
you  were  here."  He  turned  and  faced  Kildare. 
"Blaze,  I  'd  like  to  think  you  were  watching  out  for 
her  a  bit." 

The  face  of  the  Double  A  man  relaxed.    In  tones 
138 


WHISPERING  SAGE  139 

that  hinted  that  his  thoughts  were  far  away  he  re- 
plied :  "If  anybody  hurts  her,  I  'm  going  to  be  pretty 
well  annoyed. " 

Tuscarora  had  swung  his  horse  around,  and  was 
staring  intently  at  the  rise  back  of  the  cemetery  down 
which  Blaze  had  come.  Kildare  saw  immediately  the 
cause  of  the  little  man's  interest.  Silhouetted  against 
the  sky  were  six  horsemen.  As  the  two  of  them 
watched,  the  riders  separated.  One  went  north,  and 
the  others  dashed  away  to  the  east. 

Kent  whirled  on  Blaze.  "Is  that  your  bunch?"  he 
demanded. 

"I  came  alone,"  the  Double  A  man  shot  back,  quick 
to  realize  the  insinuation.  "I  think  I  recognize  the 
"big  fellow  ahead!" 

"Yeh?" 

"Bodine!  Let's  find  out  what  they  Ve  got  on 
their  mind!" 

"You  said  it,  son.  I  don't  fancy  this  Mr.  Bodine 
even  a  little  bit." 

To  avoid  seeming  to  trail  the  mysterious  riders, 
Blaze  and  Kent  chose  rather  to  intercept  them  by 
following  the  road  Mercedes  had  taken.  She  and 
Basilic  had  left  with  old  Peter,  the  head  of  the  Bengoa 
clan  of  Kings  River.  The  gray-haired  Basque  was  an 
uncle  to  them  by  marriage.  For  all  his  years,  he  was 
still  hearty,  and  he  sent  his  team  along  at  a  good 
clip.  So,  although  Blaze  and  Kent  hurried,  they 
caught  no  sight  of  the  rig  until  they  saw  it  top  a 
wide,  shallow  draw  a  mile  or  more  ahead  of  them. 
They  lost  sight  of  the  team  almost  instantly,  how- 


140  WHISPERING  SAGE 

ever,  as  Peter  sent  his  horses  down-grade  into  the 
succeeding  draw. 

The  way  to  the  Rancho  branched  off  in  this  wide, 
flat  bottom,  and  the  little  party  quickly  drew  away 
from  the  main  road.  But  even  as  rapidly  as  they  had 
traveled,  the  horsemen  Tuscarora  had  seen  were 
swifter.  Rounding  a  bend  in  the  road  old  Peter  drove 
right  into  them.  With  a  distinct  sense  of  alarm,  the 
girl  recognized  Bodine.  The  men  with  him  were  little 
calculated  to  restore  her  composure.  As  her  uncle- 
quieted  his  team,  the  smiling  Buck  approached  the 
rig. 

He  spoke  to  Peter,  but  the  old  Basque  had  a  knack 
of  not  understanding  English  when  he  chose.  This 
was  one  of  the  times.  He  knew  Bodine  by  sight,  and 
he  heartily  disliked  him.  Buck  was  not  abashed, 
however.  He  transferred  his  attention  to  Mercedes. 

Hot  anger  flashed  in  her  brown  eyes  as  he  grinned 
at  her. 

"Don't  go  lookin'  at  me  that  way,  Senorita,"  he 
pleaded  with  a  clumsy  attempt  at  being  playful. 
* '  My  friends  '11  think  you  have  the  down  on  me. ' ' 

Mercedes  grew  pale  as  Bodine 's  men  eyed  her  ap- 
provingly. 

"We  're  all  goin'  to  be  neighbors.  The  boys  have 
taken  up  those  spare  quarter-sections  beyond  my 
place.  No  use  lettin'  good  water  go  to  waste  in  that 
sink." 

Mercedes  had  not  spoken,  unless  the  flash  of  her 
eyes  from  man  to  man  might  be  interpreted  as  Ian* 


WHISPERING  SAGE  141 

guage.  She  scanned  the  horizon  nervously.  To  the 
south  the  desert  stretched  interminably.  Eastward, 
the  Santa  Rosa  Range  lifted  its  brooding  peaks.  Far 
to  the  northwest  the  tip  of  Cleopatra's  Needle  pierced 
the  sky.  Save  for  the  low  huddle  of  buildings  to  the 
northeast  that  marked  her  home,  no  sign  of  human 
habitation  rested  the  eye. 

Uncle  Peter  had  almost  enough  of  Bodine 's  in- 
solence. All  of  the  men  on  horseback  looked  to  him 
as  if  they  had  been  drinking.  The  old  Basque  was. 
apprehensive  of  staying  where  there  was  danger  for 
his  nephew  and  niece.  He  spoke  rapidly  to  Mercedes 
in  Spanish.  She  nodded  her  head  in  reply. 

* '  My  uncle  says  he  has  a  long  way  to  go.  "We  can- 
not stay  here.  If  you  be  so  kind,  Senor,  we  drive 
on." 

Bodine  had  no  intention  of  letting  them  go.  He 
knew  they  were  frightened,  and  he  reveled  in  it. 

"You  're  goin'  to  be  mighty  lonesome  in  that  big^ 
casa — your  daddy  gone;  Esteban  all  banged  up. 
You  'd  better  come  over  and  see  our  lay-out.  You  'd 
never  know  the  old  place." 

Mercedes  stared  at  Bodine  until  some  of  his  swagger 
left  him.  Basilio,  squirming  beside  his  sister,  was. 
nervous  and  anxious  to  go  on. 

"I  want  to  go  home,"  he  cried.  "When  are  we 
going  to  start?" 

Bodine  reached  down  to  pick  him  up,  but  the  little 
fellow  divined  his  intention.  He  scurried  into  his 
Bister's  arms.  Bodine  waved  his  men  back.  His  own 


142  WHISPERING  SAGE 

horse  was  so  close  to  the  rig  that  he  had  his  foot 
resting  on  the  body  of  the  blackboard.  He  bent  down 
confidentially. 

"I  lost  my  head  a  bit  the  last  time  I  was  at  the 
hacienda.  I  was  as  blind  as  the  kid  here,  I  guess. 
And  I  'm  sorry  for  what  I  said  j  though  I  ain  't  sorry 
I  kissed  you!" 

He  felt,  rather  than  saw,  Mercedes  wince. 

"I  learnt  somethin'  that  night,  though.  I  'm  a 
peaceable  man  from  now  on.  There  's  been  trouble 
enough.  I  'm  for  the  law  strong.  That  's  why  I 
want  you  to  come  over  on  the  Webster.  I  aim  to  keep 
inside  the  law,  and  I  want  to  prove  it  to  you.  I  got 
an  injunction  yesterday  morning  in  Winnemucca 
that  '11  keep  anybody  from  touching  that  creek  for 
thirty  days.  Seein'  is  believin'.  I  want  to  show  it 
to  you." 

Uncle  Peter  cursed  beneath  his  breath.  Mercedes's 
eyes  snapped.  She  whispered  to  the  old  man  to  start 
his  horses,  and  with  an  angry  glare  she  turned  on 
Bodine. 

"You  waste  your  time,"  she  said  defiantly.  "I  do 
not  care  what  you  have,  or  what  you  say.  I  know,  I 
do  not  go  with  you." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will,  Senorita,"  he  smiled.  "We 
ain't  startin'  no  argument  we  can't  finish.  Now  you 
turn  that  team  around,  old  graybeard!"  he  bawled 
at  Uncle  Peter. 

Peter  paid  no  attention  to  him,  and  Bodine  sent 
his  mount  alongside  the  team  and  caught  at  their 
bridles.  His  men  hurried  to  help  him.  Mercedes 


WHISPERING  SAGE  143 

stood  up  and  pulled  on  the  reins.  Even  if  this  talk  of 
legal  matters  was  not  a  ruse  to  get  her  to  his  ranch, 
she  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what  would  happen 
to  her  once  he  had  her  there  and  any  possible  business 
was  finished.  Buck 's  lustful  eyes  ill  concealed  his  real 
purpose. 

Blaze  and  Tuscarora  crested  the  rise  at  that  instant 
and  rode  rapidly  down  the  draw.  They  saw  the  frac- 
tious, panicky  team  with  the  horsemen  trying  to  turn 
them;  Uncle  Peter  whirling  his  whip;  Mercedes 
standing  stiff-legged  in  the  tottering  wagon,  with  the 
child  tugging  at  her.  It  needed  no  explanation. 

"Something  stirring,  all  right/'  Kent  called  to 
Blaze.  "Better  take  this  gun.  I  got  my  rifle." 

They  were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  rig  before 
Bodine  discovered  them.  He  flashed  a  venomous 
look  at  Mercedes. 

"You  better  lie  pretty  when  these  hombres  get  up 
here,  or  there  '11  be  hell  a-poppin',  and  don't  you 
forget  it." 

To  add  to  the  confusion  of  the  team,  the  extended 
clamor  had  sent  a  coyote  out  of  his  covert  in  the 
greasewood  at  the  roadside.  The  horses  scented  him 
immediately  and  reared  up.  As  the  marauder  darted 
away,  Blaze  and  Kent  pulled  their  mounts  to  &  stop. 

Tuscarora  saw  the  coyote  and  fired  at  him.  Quite 
by  accident — or  was  it  otherwise? — the  little  man  had 
Bodine  and  his  men  covered. 

"What  's  the  big  excite?"  Blaze  demanded  in  steely 
tones. 

Bodine  carried  the  memory  of  that  question  and  of 


144  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Kildare 's  look  for  a  good  many  days.  They  smelled 
of  death. 

Basilio  had  recognized  Kildare.  "I  want  to  go 
tome,  Mr.  Blaze!"  he  cried. 

It  snapped  the  tension. 

"It  's  home  for  you,  little  chief." 

Mercedes  bit  her  lip  as  she  saw  Kildare  lift  the 
blind  boy  to  his  horse's  back.  Why  did  this  man 
alternately  hurt  and  befriend  her?  She  became  con- 
scious of  the  gradual  swing  of  his  horse  to  a  position 
protecting  her  from  the  sinister  look  of  Bodine  's  com- 
panions. Tuscarora's  carelessly  held  rifle  did  not 
escape  her,  nor  did  it  escape  the  attention  of  Gloomy. 

" Ain't  you  afraid  that  there  gun  might  go  off, 
you?" 

"My  name  's  Kent — and  it  might,"  the  lover  of 
peace  drawled.  It  brought  a  laugh  from  Bodine. 

"By  the  way,"  Joe  went  on,  addressing  the 
rancher,  "don't  you  get  to  thinkin'  we  're  licked  be- 
cause old  Jose  is  gone.  I  aim  to  string  along  for  quite 
some  little  while  yet.  I  got  a  date  to  talk  to  the  law 
right  now." 

"You  're  slow!"  Bodine  grinned  nastily.  "I  had 
my  talk  with  the  law  yesterday.  There  won't  any- 
body touch  that  creek  for  thirty  days  at  least.  I  '11 
see  that  my  injunction  is  renewed,  too." 

Kent  concealed  his  chagrin  with  a  cackling  laugh. 
But  Bodine  knew  he  had  given  his  foe  a  jolt. 

' '  Let  's  hit  dirt, ' '  he  shouted  to  his  men.  He  waved 
his  hand  at  them  airily,  as  he  and  his  followers  pulled 
away. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  145 

Tuscarora  shook  his  head.  "He  sure  put  one  over 
on  the  old  man  that  time,"  he  murmured.  "That  's 
what  he  wanted  to  show  you,  eh — that  injunction? 
Brand  is  waiting  for  me  down  at  the  hotel.  I  '11  burn 
it  back  to  town.  You  go  along  to  the  Rancho." 

Basilio  hugged  Blaze  tightly  as  Kent  uttered  this; 
dictum.  Kildare  looked  at  Mercedes  for  his  answer. 
Their  eyes  met  momentarily.  A  low,  dull  red  burned 
in  the  girl's  cheeks.  Something  she  saw  in  Kildare 'a 
expression  made  her  lips  part.  For  a  brief  instant 
Blaze  caught  sight  of  her  gleaming  teeth.  The  hint 
of  a  smile  remained  as  she  turned  her  head  away. 

"Maybe  it  is  best  you  come  along,"  she  murmured. 
"If — if  the  Sefior  Acklin  does  not  mind  your  taking1 
care  of  the  poor  boscos." 

Mercedes  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  twinge  her  cor- 
dially enunciated  phrase  caused  Blaze.  He  wondered, 
if  she  would  ever  forget  the  word  he  had  used. 

Tuscarora  chuckled  to  himself  as  he  raced  to- 
Paradise.  "Gosh!"  he  said,  "don't  she  say  the 
cutest  things?" 

Blaze  trailed  Uncle  Peter's  buckboard.  Several 
times  during  the  ride,  Kildare  had  tried  to  inveigle 
Mercedes  into  conversation,  but  she  sat  unbending, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  road  ahead,  when  they  were  not 
roaming  over  the  desolate  fields. 

They  passed  a  dead  calf  just  before  they  drove  up 
to  the  house.  The  little  fellow  had  been  the  first  to 
succumb  to  the  great  thirst.  Both  the  man  and  the 
girl  realized  that  many  more  would  be  left  behind  by 

their  crazed  mothers  to  share  a  like  fate. 


146  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  shook  her  head  sadly. 

"Oh,  if  we  could  only  prove  that  shovels  and  not 
the  storms  had  robbed  us  of  our  water. "  There  was 
no  bitterness  in  her  tone.  She  seemed  to  be  speaking 
more  to  the  distant  Santa  Rosas  than  to  Blaze.  ' '  No, ' ' 
she  went  on,  "storms  never  do  this!  It  is  Senor 
Acklin,  and  his  devil-dog  Bodine.  They  want  to  drive 
us  away." 

In  her  mind  was  the  memory  of  Acklin 's  advances, 
and  the  history  of  many  peaceful  ranchers  and  sheep- 
men who  had  been  driven  to  poverty  and  exile  by  the 
predatory  water-lord,  who  took  the  place  on  the  desert 
of  the  feudal  baron  of  bygone  days. 

"  'The  night  the  eagle  is  brought  to  earth,  the  eaglet 
takes  wing/  Our  people  always  say  that." 

She  turned  to  Blaze.     He  had  heard  every  word. 

' '  I  am  the  eaglet ! ' '  There  was  a  convincing  even- 
ness to  her  voice.  "Senor  Acklin  will  not  drive  me 
away.  He  will  find  that  a  bosco  can  fight." 

Kildare's  jaws  clinched  as  she  branded  herself  with 
the  hated  term. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  '11  ever  forget  I  used  that 
word,"  he  said  spiritedly. 

Mercedes  answered  by  asking: 

1 '  Does  Senor  Acklin  do  no  wrong  in  your  eyes  ? ' ' 

Here  was  the  old  question  again.  Blaze  felt  her 
insinuation. 

"I  'ma  Double  A  man,  but  I  don't  inherit  Acklin  '& 
quarrels.  What  he  does,  he  '11  have  to  answer  for. 
I  aim  to  answer  for  what  I  do.  That  's  the  law  of 
the  country  in  which  I  was  raised.  A  man  belongs 


WHISPERING  SAGE  147 

to  the  outfit  lie  belongs  to,  or  he  's  just  a  maverick, 
unbranded. " 

Peter  pulled  up  his  horses  at  the  patio  gate.  The 
cow-boy  held  out  his  arm  to  help  the  girl  down.  As 
her  fingers  closed  about  Kildare  's  strong,  sun-browned 
wrist  and  Mercedes  felt  the  strength  of  the  arm  that 
lowered  her  as  though  she  was  no  weight  at  all,  an 
eager  desire  to  be  caressed  by  it  almost  overcame  the 
perverse  but  strangely  womanly  streak  that  kept  her 
provokingly  antagonistic  to  the  man.  Even  so,  her 
hands  did  not  relax  their  grip  as  she  reached  the 
ground  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"You  may  wear  the  brand  of  Sefior  Acklin;  it  may 
please  you  to  do  so. ' '  Her  words  carried  her  father 's 
dignity.  There  was  little  of  anger  and  much  of  regret 
that  what  she  said  should  be  so,  in  her  tone.  Blaze 
thought  he  had  never  seen  her  so  beautiful.  ' '  It  may 
please  you  to  help  him  take  from  us  everything  we 
have  work  so  hard  for ;  to  see  our  stock  die  for  want 
of  a  drink,  to  make  our  fields  wither  like  that. ' '  She 
drew  her  hands  away  and  pointed  to  the  brown  al- 
falfa. There  was  a  tear  in  her  eye  when  she  glanced 
back  at  Blaze.  "But  if  you  do  so  because  it  is  the 
law  of  your  country,  then  it  is  a  very,  very  bad  law." 

The  desire  for  speech  had  never  been  greater  in 
Kildare  than  at  this  moment,  but  words  failed  to  serve 
him.  Had  her  voice  not  implied  an  acceptance  of  his 
friendship  in  spite  of  his  connection  with  Acklin? 
She  was  gone  before  he  recovered  the  use  of  his 
tongue. 

Basilio  waved  his  tiny  hand  as  Blaze  walked  My 


148  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Man  down  past  the  corrals.  Mariano,  the  mozo, 
lounged  against  the  barn.  He  took  off  his  hat  to 
Kildare. 

"Bad  times,  these,  for  the  Buena  Vista/'  Blaze  said 
to  him. 

"Madre  de  Dios,  but  yes!  Don  Jose  dead;  Este- 
t>an  shot ;  the  hot  winds  on  the  fields ;  and  the  devil- 
men  of  the  north!"  He  shook  his  head  hopelessly. 
"All  veree  bad  for  the  Senorita," 

* '  The  '  devil-men  of  the  north '  may  come  here  some 
night,  eh?" 

"Maybe,  Senor,  they  come  some  night." 

"Henaro  and  the  other  vaqueros  are  not  here  any 
longer ;  you  are  all  alone  on  the  Rancho,  now,  eh  ? " 

"Si,  Senor."  Mariano  wagged  his  head  gravely. 
""No  work  for  vaqueros  any  more." 

Blaze  had  guessed  as  much.  Bodine  would  not  fail 
to  take  advantage  of  this,  once  he  learned  that  only 
the  old  servant  stood  between  the  girl  and  himself, 
* l  What  would  you  do,  if  the  *  devil-men '  came  ? ' '  Blaze 
asked  apprehensively. 

"At  night  the  gate  ees  shut,  Senor.  I  sleep  outside 
the  Senorita's  door." 

* '  Good !  Here  is  a  little  present  for  you,  Mariano. ' ' 
Kildare  took  the  six-gun  Tuscarora  had  lent  him  from 
his  holster,  and  handed  it  to  the  old  man.  The  serv- 
ant 's  dark  eyes^  fairly  glistened.  He  had  long  since 
despaired  of  ever  rising  to  the  dignity  of  possessing  a 
gun  of  his  own. 

"For  me,  Senor?"  he  asked  breathlessly. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  149 

"It 's  for  you,  if  you  always  keep  it  on  you  when 
you  sleep  outside  her  door." 

1 '  Santa  Maria !  It  ees  a  beautiful  gun !  I  will  keep 
heem  with  me  all  the  time,  Seiior." 

Unaware  of  the  anxious,  wistful  face  that  followed 
him  from  the  safety  of  a  curtained  window,  Blaze 
rode  into  the  north. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ABROAD  grin  spread  over  the  face  of  the  Big 
Boss  when  Kildare  told  him  of  Bodine  's  injunc- 
tion. Kildare  wondered  just  what  amused  him  so 
much. 

Morrow  hailed  Blaze  as  he  came  out.  To-morrow 
was  the  Fourth  of  July. 

' '  Suppose  you  're  goin '  down  to  Golconda  with  the 
boys,"  he  grumbled.  Cash's  tone  showed  plainly 
enough  his  lack  of  pleasure  in  the  coming  day. 

Kildare  shook  his  head.  A  dance,  in  his  present 
frame  of  mind,  held  no  lure  for  him.  He  sprawled 
on  his  bed,  smoking  many  cigarettes,  listening  to  the 
wit,  both  near  and  alleged,  being  voiced  around  him; 
but  thoughts  of  the  lonely  girl  in  the  deserted  haci- 
enda kept  intruding  and  finally  drove  him  outside 
where  he  could  be  alone. 

He  saw  Cash  wearing  a  worried  appearance  and 
wondered  if  the  foreman's  anxiety  was  not  well 
founded.  If  the  Basques  knew  that  most  of  the 
Double  A  men  were  away  on  the  holiday,  wouldn't 
they  be  tempted  to  strike  again?  Bodine 's  move- 
ments were  an  even  more  interesting  speculation. 
There  was  no  doubt  in  Kildare 's  mind  that  the  man 
would  try  to  get  possession  of  the  girl. 

By  supper-time  the  specter  of  Bodine  had  become 
150 


WHISPERING  SAGE  151 

so  menacing  that  he  decided  to  ride  down  to  the 
Rancho.  He  waited  until  the  boys  had  left  and  then 
silently  followed  them. 

Dawn  had  found  him  lying  sleepy-eyed  on  the  little 
mesa  that  rose  back  of  the  hacienda.  He  had  had  his 
vigil  for  nothing.  Since  sun-up  he  had  slept ;  but  he 
was  stiff  and  sore  from  the  lack  of  a  blanket.  He 
had  noticed  a  stirring  in  the  patio  from  his  perch  on 
the  mesa.  It  was  after  seven  when  he  rode  by  the 
hacienda. 

He  saw  a  table  set  with  white  napery,  thin  glasses, 
heavy  silver,  and  delicate,  cream-colored  porcelain. 
Daintiness,  cleanliness,  ancestry  all  spoke  there.  The 
jaunty  insouciance  of  the  table  on  the  veranda  seemed 
to  relieve  the  dirge  the  wind  played  as  it  swept  across 
the  brown  fields  and  through  the  dead  flowers.  It 
seemed  to  token  a  determination  to  meet  misfortune 
with  a  smile ;  to  go  down  with  the  colors  nailed  to  the 
mast. 

My  Man  whinnied.  Basilio  heard  him  and  jumped 
down  from  the  wide  portico. 

"I  know  you  be  here  to-day,  Mr.  Blaze, "  he  called 
as  he  ran  towards  Kildare.  "I  tell  Mercedes  you 
come  this  morning. " 

The  cow-boy  smiled  down  at  him. 

"You  didn't  tell  her  I  'd  be  here  for  breakfast, 
did  you?" 

Mercedes  came  out  of  the  house  at  that  moment. 
Blaze  greeted  her  with  a  cheery  "Good  morning." 

She  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  him.  Kildare 
kept  his  eyes  on  her  set,  uncompromising  profile,  as 


'152  WHISPERING  SAGE 

she  stared  fixedly  at  the  dry  stalks  that  were  the 
remnants  of  her  garden. 

"Why  you  sleep  out  there  all  night ?"  she  asked 
at  last,  not  ungently. 

The  directness  of  this  unexpected  question  rather 
upset  him. 

"I  sleep  ...  all  night?  .  .  .  Where?"  "he  stam- 
mered. 

Basilio  gave  him  his  answer. 

"I  hear  My  Man  single-foot  along  the  road  last 
night.  He  stopped  by  the  fence.  I  told  you  so, 
didn't  I?" 

"Ain't  no  use  lying  about  it,"  Blaze  said  rather 
shamefacedly.  "I  figured  Bodine  might  try  to  pay 
you  a  visit.  I  knew  you  were  all  alone  here."  He 
stopped  momentarily.  "Did  n't  see  anything  of  him, 
though." 

Mariano  came  out  with  the  coffee.  Mercedes  turned 
to  him. 

"Serve  the  Senor  at  once,  Mariano,"  she  ordered. 
"He  has  a  long  way  to  go." 

"Si,  si." 

"Won't  you  sit  down?"  she  coldly  urged  the 
Double  A  man. 

"That  's  not  the  way  I  want  you  to  ask  me,  Miss 
Mercedes,"  Blaze  answered  without  moving. 

"A  guest  may  always  make  requests  that  become 
commands!"  she  quoted. 

A  new  look  came  into  Kildare's  eyes.  His  face  <was 
grave.  He  was  about  to  speak  when  Mercedes 


WHISPERING  SAGE  153 

motioned  to  the  servant.  The  old  mozo  hastened  to 
her  side. 

"Senor  Kildare  thanks  you  for  caring  for  his  re- 
volver, "  she  began.  "He  wishes  you  to  return  it." 

"Now  look  here,"  Blaze  cut  in  hastily,  his  cheeks 
red. 

"Give  the  gun  back  at  once,  Mariano." 

The  old  man  lifted  a  mournful  face  to  hers  as  he 
pulled  the  revolver  from  his  pocket.  Silently  but 
dramatically  he  besought  her  to  let  him  keep  it.  It 
had  been  too  good  to  be  true.  He  darted  a  glance  at 
Kildare.  Why  did  these  gringos  always  change  their 
minds  ? 

"You  may  thank  the  Senor  for  what  the  Americans 
call— the  tip." 

"It  wasn't  any  tip  at  all,"  Blaze  asserted.  "I 
didn't  want  you  to  be  unprotected." 

"He  say  he  geeve  it  to  me,  because  I  sleep  outside 
your  door, ' '  Mariano  protested.  * '  Now  I  got  to  geeve 
heem  back.  People  geeve,  then  take  away;  no  won- 
der old  Mariano  never  got  nothing." 

He  put  the  gun  on  the  table. 

"The  next  time  you  talk  to  strangers  about  the 
affairs  of  the  hacienda,  I  shall  send  you  down  to 
Paradise  to  work  in  the  wool  warehouse." 

That  possibility  held  no  allurement,  judging  by  the 
haste  with  which  the  mozo  sped  off  for  Kildare 's 
breakfast. 

Basilio  had  caught  the  seriousness  of  the  conver- 
sation. It  kept  him  silent,  though  several  times  he 


154  WHISPERING  SAGE 

tagged  at  his  sister's  skirts  as  if  to  catch  her  atten- 
tion. Mercedes  was.  so  engrossed  she  paid  no  heed 
to  the  boy  until  Acklin  rode  into  the  patio. 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you  some  one  was  coming, "  the 
sensitive  child  whispered  in  the  natural  lull  of  sur- 
prise, following  the  appearance  of  the  Big  Boss  of 
the  Double  A. 

Mercedes  flashed  a  quick  glance  from  Acklin  to 
Blaze,  who  held  his  position  near  the  table.  His  face 
was  emotionless.  Had  he  known  the  rancher  was 
coming  ?  Only  by  the  slightest  inclination  of  her  head 
did  she  acknowledge  the  cattle-man's  greeting. 

"Sorry  I  couldn't  get  down  to  your  father's 
funeral,''  he  said. 

The  lie  did  not  pass  Mercedes. 

"Your  man  do  very  well  in  your  place/'  she  an- 
swered. 

There  was  the  faintest  lifting  of  the  corner  of  her 
scornful  red  lips.  The  implied  accusation  touched 
Kildare. 

"You  find  him  a  very  good  man,  I  guess,"  she 
continued  incisively.  "Ready  to  do  what  he  is  told." 

Acklin  looked  from  Blaze  to  her,  and  back  again. 
The  little  by-play  that  her  words  carried  was  beyond 
him.  He  saw  in  Blaze  only  a  cow-puncher,  a  spender, 
a  working  man.  In  the  chatelaine  of  the  Rancho 
Buena  Vista  he  saw — each  time  he  encountered  her 
he  saw  something  different;  at  all  times  the  feeling 
came  over  him  that  here  was  an  unconquerable  thing 
— something  he  had  to  humble. 

"Better  drift  to  the  Bull's  Head,"  he  said  to  Blaze. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  155 

It  was  lightly  purred,  but  carried  with  it  the  dis- 
missal of  the  man  on  the  veranda. 

Acklin  followed  him  to  where  My  Man  stood.  Kil- 
dare's  stock  had  taken  a  decided  drop  in  his  mental 
ledger. 

* '  What  kept  you  down  here  ? ' '  he  asked,  when  they 
were  out  of  hearing  of  the  girl  on  the  veranda. 

Kildare's  imagination  was  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"The  boys  were  seen  when  they  went  out,"  he 
drawled.  "I  ran  into  Bodine  and  six  or  seven  of 
his  men.  He  didn't  have  a  good  excuse  for  being 
where  he  was,  so  I  hung  around  to  keep  my  eye  on 
him."  Blaze  jabbed  his  thumb  in  the  direction  of 
Mercedes.  "I  didn't  tell  her." 

Acklin  began  to  readjust  his  notes  again,  as  far  as 
Kildare  was  concerned. 

"Course  I  know  you  're  strong  for  Bodine,"  Blaze 
continued,  "but " 

The  Big  Boss  stopped  him  abruptly. 

"The  Double  A  is  strong  for  the  Double  A,"  he 
asserted  meaningly.  "Bodine  will  bear  watching." 
He  unbent  enough  to  add,  "You  tell  the  Chink  that 
I  said  you  were  to  have  breakfast." 

Acklin  was  sipping  the  coffee  that  had  been  set  out 
for  his  hired  hand,  as  Blaze  looked  back  in  answer 
to  Basilio's  call.  The  cow-boy  wondered  how  big  a 
part  the  humbling  of  the  proud  little  chatelaine  of  the 
Buena  Yista  played  in  the  Big  Boss's  determination 
to  go  through  with  his  move  against  the  people  of  the 
valley.  From  that  to  the  elimination  of  Old  Iron- 
sides by  the  long-range  automatic  that  stood  in  the 


156  WHISPERING  SAGE 

office  at  the  Bull's  Head  was  only  a  step.  But  it  was 
a  conclusive  one.  Possibly  a  twinge  of  jealousy  urged 
him  to  accept  that  explanation  of  Jose's  murder. 
Still  the  death  of  the  old  man  gave  Acklin  a  free 
hand  with  the  girl. 

Why  should  he  care?  he  asked  himself,  still  smart- 
ing from  the  scornful  manner  in  which  she  had  re- 
proved him  for  his  attempt  to  protect  her.  He  told 
himself  he  had  been  right  that  first  day  he  had  met 
her  down  on  the  river.  Who  was  he ;  or  what  did  he 
have  to  offer,  that  would  make  her  ever  look  with  favor 
on  him?  He  began  to  hate  himself  for  the  fool  he 
had  been.  Kildare's  pride  was  hurt,  and  it  was  a 
new  experience  for  him. 

If  Blaze  could  have  been  back  on  the  veranda  at 
the  Rancho,  he  would  have  found  some  degree  of 
comfort  in  the  reception  accorded  Acklin. 

The  complacency  with  which  the  Big  Boss  took 
possession  of  the  chair  at  the  head  of  the  table  sat 
rather  well  on  his  broad  person.  That  it  failed  to 
fire  Mercedes  to  a  wrathful  explosion  may  be  put 
down  to  her  father's  old-fashioned  Basque  training 
of  her,  which  forbade  a  display  of  temper  toward  one 
who  broke  bread  under  their  roof. 

"Sit  down,  Mercedes,"  Acklin  suggested  quietly 
after  he  had  watched  her  for  a  few  seconds.  ' 1 1  want 
to  talk  to  you." 

"  'Those  who  taste  of  our  salt  may  have  our  serv- 
ice on  our  knees.'  ' 

She  repeated  this  age-old  tradition,  handed  down 


WHISPERING  SAGE  157 

from  the  Mohammedan  invasion  of  the  Iberian  Penin- 
sula, with  a  dignity  that  even  Acklin  felt. 

' '  Oh,  come  now, ' '  Acklin  interrupted.  ' '  Stop  hand- 
ing me  that  old  stuff.  You  Ye  living  in  America. 
Sit  down  and  eat." 

"What  you  going  to  do?"  the  girl  asked  without 
moving. 

He  studied  her  before  he  answered. 

"I  'm  going  to  sit  here  and  listen  to  you.  I  like 
your  voice  when  you  talk,  or  when  you  sing." 

"I  mean  what  you  going  to  do  about  the  water? 
Our  cattle  are  dying." 

"Now  I  'm  right  sorry  to  hear  that,"  he  smiled, 
his  pale  gray  eyes  becoming  absolutely  colorless. 

"I  wonder  how  sorry  you  be?"  she  asked. 

"How  sorry  would  you  want  me  to  be?" 

There  was  a  playfulness,  clumsy  as  it  might  be,  in 
his  manner,  that  put  the  woman  lately  born  in  Mer- 
cedes on  guard. 

1 '  I  want  you  to  be  sorry  enough  to  make  that  Senor 
Bodine  turn  the  water  of  Rebel  Creek  back  where  it 
belong!" 

Acklin 's  complacency  increased.  He  showed  his 
teeth  in  a  wider  smile  than  ever. 

"Dios!  What  a  beauty  you  are,  Mercedes,  with 
that  fire  in  your  eyes!" 

"You  have  help  that  devil-dog,  Senor!  You  wait 
and  see  how  he  pay  you  back  for  your  friendship." 

"I'm  waiting,  Senorita;  and  I  don't  think  he  '11 
keep  me  in  suspense  much  longer.- 


158  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  Big  Boss  leaned  toward  her,  his  arms  spread 
across  the  table. 

"But  I  won't  miss  his  friendship;  not  if  I  have 
yours,  querida." 

Acklin's  bantering  was  slowly  but  surely  wearing 
her  down.  She  felt  as  if  a  hand  were  at  her  throat. 

"Oh,  stop!"  she  cried  in  desperation.  "You  are 
like  a  wolf-hound  with  a  bone.  You  get  a  thing  in 
your  teeth,  and  you  hang  on  and  on  -and  never  give 
up.  You  think  you  crush  everything  before  you 
with  your  money,  your  power.  Bah!"  Mercedes 
got  to  her  feet.  The  rancher  fell  back  before  the  fire 
in  her  eyes. 

' '  Your  power, ' '  she  mocked.  ' '  You  make  your  men 
do  things  you  would  not  dare  to  do  yourself.  Like 
this  man  you  send  away  now.  You  make  him  a  spy, 
a  listener,  what  you  call  eavesdropper ;  you  try  to  kill 
everything  that  is  good  in  him.  And  yet  he  serve  you 
well." 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  Acklin  no  longer 
held  his  detached,  half-amused  attitude. 

"Look  here,  Mercedes,  what  's  that  cow-punch  got 
to  do  with  our  little  tete-a-tete?" 

There  was  too  much  of  Kildare  in  this  conversation 
to  suit  him. 

' '  Oh,  you  buy  him !  You  bribe  him !  You  try  to 
make  him  so  low  that  even  a  bosco  would  hate  him." 

She  used  the  word  with  that  nice  shading  of  con- 
tempt Acklin  could  appreciate. 

"What  the  devil — ,"  he  began,  as  he  got  up  j  but  he 


WHISPERING  SAGE  159 

did  not  finish  his  sentence.  He  was  alone.  Mercedes 
had  caught  up  Basilio  and  entered  the  house. 

Acklin  tried  the  door.  It  was  locked.  He  looked 
around.  Mariano  sat  hunched  against  a  pillar  of  the 
veranda. 

'  *  Which  way  did  she  go  ? "  he  demanded  angrily. 

He  got  no  answer.  Crossing  the  portico  he  dug  his 
toe  into  the  old  man's  side.  The  mozo  sagged  over, 
his  head  falling  on  his  breast  as  he  slept.  Acklin 
dropped  the  hot  ashes  of  his  cigar  down  the  man's 
neck.  Mariano  jumped  with  a  yell. 

"Huy!  Fuego!"  he  cried.  "Caramba!"  The 
old  servant  slapped  at  the  back  of  his  neck  in  panic. 
He  had  not  been  so  wide  awake  in  years. 

"Get  my  horse!"  the  Big  Boss  thundered. 

So  Acklin  followed  his  hired  man  back  to  the  Bull 's 
Head.  Their  departing  moods  permitted  of  no  choice. 
The  eaglet  had  scratched  them  both. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

ACKLIN  locked  himself  in  his  office  on  his  return 
from  the  Rancho.  Kildare's  concern  for  Mer- 
cedes had  annoyed  him.  But  with  characteristic  de- 
cision, he  determined  to  find  other  and  equally  profit- 
able employment  for  Blaze  that  would  make  the  cow- 
boy's visits  to  the  Rancho  a  thing-  of  the  past. 

But  the  business  that  had  held  the  big  cattle-man 
in  his  office  until  midnight,  and  which  kept  him  com- 
pany on  Monday  morning,  was  in  no  way  connected 
with  Kildare.  The  ingenious  Mr.  Bodine  and  his 
injunction  were  at  the  bottom  of  Acklin's  cogitation. 

Very  much  as  a  general  does,  the  Big  Boss  mentally 
marshaled  his  forces  for  the  move  he  planned.  Every 
political  and  financial  outpost  came  up  for  his  inspec- 
tion. And  the  more  he  studied  and  figured,  the  more 
certain  he  became  that  the  time  to  begin  realizing  the 
dream  of  his  life  had  arrived. 

The  conviction  grew  as  the  hours  passed.  His 
smile  famed  into  a  grin  that  stripped  his  teeth,  as  he 
contemplated  the  position  of  the  patronizing  Buck. 
Acklin  recalled  a  cartoon  of  a  farmer  ready  to  cut 
down  a  limb  on  the  end  of  which  a  bob-cat  had  taken 
refuge.  It  fitted  the  present  occasion  admirably. 

The  Big  Boss  had  his  saw  in  hand,  and  if  Bodine 
could  have  .seen  the  unholy  glee  with  which  the  cattle- 

160 


WHISPERING  SAGE  161 

man  looked  forward  to  dropping  him  into  space,  he 
would  have  lost  some  of  his  offensive  swagger. 

Morrow  rode  up  to  the  Bull's  Head  about  three 
o'clock  in  a  fine  frenzy.  He  slid  from  his  horse  and 
hammered  on  the  office  door. 

"  Somebody  's  running  an  iron  on  our  stuff  over  in 
the  Buttes ! "  he  burst  out.  ' '  They  're  overbranding 
us  and  drivin'  'em  out.  I  was  up  to  the  Needle  this 
noon,  seein'  what  we  'd  have  to  do  to  that  old  road 
if  we  wanted  to  use  it  to  haul  rock.  I  got  a  sight  of 
the  hombres  from  there.  Them  steers  are  hog-fat  over 
in  the  Buttes:  they  're  ready  for  the  fall  shippin' 
right  now." 

"How  many  men  did  you  see?" 

"  'Bout  four — maybe  five.  Headin'  southwest. 
They  'd  have  to  go  up  in  the  air  to  get  out  any  other 
way." 

Acklin  uncrossed  his  legs  lazily. 

' '  Guess  we  '11  put  a  stop  to  that  in  a  hurry.  Better 
send  a  couple  of  the  boys  over  there  to  dry-camp. ' ' 

"And  Kildare  the  only  sober  one  in  the  bunch," 
the  foreman  muttered  scornfully. 

The  Big  Boss  contracted  his  eyes. 

"Send  him,"  he  ordered.  "He  's  been  spotted  by 
the  Basques  by  now,  Cash.  I  reckon  he  won't  come 
back  until  he  's  got  his  men.  Let  Melody  go  along." 

Morrow  started  out,  when  Acklin  called  him  back. 

"About  that  rock,"  he  began.  "We  're  going  to 
need  it." 

The  foreman's  mouth  opened  in  surprise. 

"What?"  he  cried.     "We  're  goin'  to " 


162  WHISPERING  SAGE 

11  Build  our  dam." 

Cash,  flopped  into  a  chair  in  actual  physical  weak- 
ness. For  ten  years  this  dam  had  been  held  out  to 
Mm  until  it  had  become  a  huge,  elusive,  Gargantuan 
myth.  It  meant  the  end  of  the  Double  A's  water 
fights;  the  doing  away  with  that  mad  hunt  for  grass 
in  the  dry  years.  Water  meant  alfalfa,  and  alfalfa 
meant  hay.  With  water,  grass,  and  hay  in  abundance, 
Cash  looked  forward  to  a  life  of  ease.  He  stared  at 
Acklin  for  a  full  minute,  dumb  with  the  realization 
that  he  was  face  to  face  at  last  with  the  chimera  that 
had  haunted  him  so  long. 

"When  do  we  begin ?"  he  finally  asked  in  an  awed 
voice. 

"To-day.  I  'm  going  to  town  to-night  to  get  the 
stuff  started  on  its  way.  I  'phoned  to  Gallagher  in 
Reno  to  meet  me  to-morrow  morning  in  Winnemucca 
and  to  bring  a  rigger  along.  I  '11  have  the  cable  and 
powder  and  concrete  moving  by  noon  to-morrow.  You 
get  that  road  to  the  Needle  fixed  up.  Tell  Mac  to  get 
the  donkey-engine  in  shape.  Haul  her  up  to  Martin 
Canon  as  soon  as  he  's  ready.  You  know  the  spot." 

Cash  got  up  to  go.  A  smile  had  begun  to  dawn  on 
his  lips.  He  had  remembered  Bodine.  He  glanced 
at  Acklin.  A  grin  that  held  something  of  the  play- 
fulness of  the  tiger  wreathed  the  face  of  the  Big  Boss. 
Each  knew  what  the  other  was  thinking. 

The  loud  laughter  that  rang  in  Melody's  ears  as 
that  unhappy  individual,  much  the  worse  from  his 
trip  to  Golconda,  rode  by  the  office,  made  him  wonder 
if  he  wasn't  as  drunk  as  Cash  had  asserted  after  all. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  163 

"What?  Acklin  laugh?"  he  mumbled  to  himself. 
"Hell's  fire!  They  must  'a7  discovered  oil  on  this 
damn  ranch." 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  still  grumbling  as  Widget 
doled  out  the  pots  and  pans  and  bacon  to  Blaze  and 
him.  An  early  supper,  and  they  were  on  their  way. 

Kildare  was  glad  of  the  chance  to  be  on  his  own. 
Ranging  through  the  Buttes  would  give  him  an  oppor- 
tunity to  reconnoiter  the  mysterious  house  on  Webster 
Creek  without  being  seen.  He  had  not  forgotten  his 
visit  there,  nor  the  man  who  had  tried  to  pot  him  in 
the  back.  Aside  from  any  thought  of  that  person,  if 
danger  threatened  Mercedes,  it  would  originate  at 
Bodine's  ranch. 

Thought  of  her  kept  him  silent  for  a  while.  He 
could  not  help  but  wonder  what  the  future  held  for 
the  brave  girl.  His  own  injured  feelings  no  longer 
rankled  in  his  breast.  She  had  been  right,  he  told 
himself,  in  refusing  to  accept  his  ill-advised  protec- 
tion. Blaze  consoled  himself  with  the  knowledge  that 
Esteban  would  be  up  by  the  following  day,  and  able 
to  look  after  her. 

A  glance  at  Melody  showed  that  weary  man  sway- 
ing from  side  to  side  as  if  he  slept.  But  he  managed 
to  keep  one  eye  half  open  as  he  rode  along. 

"Guess  a  bed  would  look  mighty  good  to  you,  right 
this  minute,"  Blaze  laughed. 

"Took  you  a  sight  of  time  to  cook  up  that  observa- 
tion. You  're  the  most  talkative  cuss  I  ever  rode 
with.  That  is,  exceptin'  old  Pete.  Ever  hear  of 
Pete?" 


164  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Blaze  shook  his  head.    "Not  me." 

Melody  brushed  the  fiery  hair  back  from  his  eyes. 

"Well,  this  here  Tarantula  Pete  and  Death  Valley 
Sawyer  hit  into  the  Panamints  to  pick  up  odds  and 
ends  in  mines  and  Wells  Fargo  pouches  and  things 
like  that.  They  didn't  shy  at  anything  but  words. 
After  they  were  out  eleven  months  and  nine  days, 
Pete  said,  '  I  guess  this  is  Christmas. '  It  was  the  first 
time  the  primeval  silence  had  been  fractured  there- 
abouts by  word  of  mouth  since  stout  Cortes  with  all 
his  men  had  said,  'Gee  whiz,  what  a  long  hike  to  find 
the  Fountain  of  Youth !  We  '11  be  too  old  to  want 
to  be  young  again  before  we  git  a  sip,  if  this  thing 
keeps  up/ 

"Well,  ten  days  after  that  remark,  Death  Valley 
Sawyer  said,  casual-like,  as  if  Christmas  had  waited 
round  for  him  to  make  up  his  mind,  'How  in  hell  do 
you  know  it  's  Christmas?' 

"That  night  Pete  took  his  coffee  and  his  share  of 
the  beans,  and  broke  a  lifelong  friendship.  Before 
leaving  he  wrote  a  note  to  old  Death  Valley,  saying 
as  how  he  just  had  to  go,  as  there  was  too  damned 
much  discussion  around  there  to  suit  him." 

"If  there  's  more  to  it,  let 's  have  it,"  Blaze  called 
sarcastically. 

"Humph!     You've  got  it  all,  companero!" 

Blaze  rolled  his  eyes  sadly. 

"Ain't  that  story  ever  had  any  effect  on  you,  per- 
sonal?" he  asked  mournfully. 

Melody  pulled  his  sombrero  low  over  his  eyes. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  165 

"I  never  missed  Christmas  yet/'  he  answered 
wrathfully. 

Christmas,  even  though  mentioned  in  jest,  was  too 
poignant  a  reminder. 

"You  've  been  lucky/'  Blaze  drawled,  a  note,  not 
all  banter,  creeping  into  his  voice.  It  escaped  Melody. 

"I  got  a  license  to  be  lucky,"  he  chirped  blithely. 
"See  that!" 

He  pulled  his  Ingersoll,  chain  and  all,  from  an  in- 
side vest-pocket.  "That's  my  alee,"  he  asserted,  as 
he  held  up  the  charm  that  dangled  from  the  end  of 
his  chain,  for  Blaze's  inspection. 

Blaze  felt  his  pulse  jump  as  he  caught  sight  of  it. 
Beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt,  it  was  the  charm  that 
had  made  the  impression  in  the  sand  on  the  rim-rocks 
above  Smoky  Canon. 

Melody  misread  the  interest  with  which  his  friend 
stared  at  the  cryptic  piece. 

"Right  from  old  Chi,"  he  exclaimed  to  forestall 
any  criticism  of  his  belonging.  "Sears,  Sawhorse  & 
Co.— -page  982." 

Melody  laughed  at  his  own  wit. 

"No  Injun  ever  sot  eyes  on  that,"  he  added.  "I 
had  the  real  thing  once;  got  it  down  in  Moqui  Land." 

"Where  'd  you  get  this?"  Blaze  demanded  anx- 
iously. 

"I  suppose  it  's  yours?"  the  other  flashed  back. 

"No;  it  's  not  mine;  and  I  '11  bet  a  leg  it  ain't 
yours  either,  old-timer.  Where  'd  you  find  it?" 

"You  just  guessin'?"  Melody  asked  cautiously. 


166  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"I  know  what  I  'm  talking  about.  When  did  you 
pick  it  up?" 

"A  couple  o'  days  ago,  in  the  sand  around  the 
hitchin '-post,  outside  the  door  at  the  Bull's  Head." 

Kildare  turned  the  silver  ornament  from  one  side 
to  the  other,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  make  it  give  up 
its  secret.  Finding  it  in  the  ranch  yard  made  the 
chain  of  circumstantial  evidence  against  the  Big  Boss 
almost  complete. 

"Anybody  seen  you  wearin'  it?"  he  asked. 

"No,  sir!"  Melody  was  emphatic.  "I  'm  beyond 
wearin'  that  stuff  in  public." 

Blaze  handed  back  his  watch. 

"I  'm  goin'  to  keep  this,  just  because."  He  held 
the  charm  in  his  open  palm.  The  red-haired  one  had 
caught  something  between  the  lines.  Blaze  glanced 
at  him.  "The  man  that  owns  this,"  he  went  on, 
"killed  Old  Ironsides." 

1 '  What  ? ' '  Melody 's  eyes  bulged.  ' '  Now  what  do 
you  know  *bout  that?"  He  shook  his  head,  thor- 
oughly bewildered.  "There  's  Injun  luck  for  you," 
he  added. 


CHAPTER  XX 

WITH  the  slow  advance  of  the  freight  team  driven 
by  the  slower  moving  Wash  the  destiny  of 
Paradise  Valley  was  indissolubly  linked.  The  old 
skinner  had  laughed  immoderately  at  the  discomfiture 
of  One-eyed  Manuel,  in  his  encounter  with  Bodine  in 
the  Benavides  barroom.  He  laughed  even  louder  now 
in  anticipation  of  Bodine 's  discomfiture  when  the  final 
encounter  with  Acklin  should  be  of  record. 

Old  Wash  had  what  is  known  in  the  vernacular  as 
inside  information.  The  creaking  wagon,  warped  to 
match  the  seamed  countenance  of  its  owner,  carried 
enough  dynamite  to  blow  Cleopatra's  Needle  into 
many  and  various  shapes. 

That  was  the  intent,  too.  Cleo's  well-advertised 
and  obvious  mountain  of  granite  was  to  be  laid  low. 

Gallagher  and  his  rigger  had  arrived.  The  donkey- 
engine  was  in  place.  Cash  had  the  road  in  shape. 
Where  Martin  Canon  narrowed,  a  cable  had  been 
strung  from  bank  to  bank.  The  actual  building  of 
the  dam  only  awaited  the  arrival  of  Wash  and  his 
precious  load. 

With  the  advent  of  the  dynamite,  it  seemed  that 
Cheops  had  come  back  to  build  another  pyramid.  The 
upper  reaches  of  the  Santa  Rosas  reechoed  and  trem- 
bled as  the  huge  blocks  of  stone  were  blown  out  to  be 

167 


168  WHISPERING  SAGE 

snaked  down  to  the  rim  of  the  canon.  Once  there,  it 
seemed  that  they  would  give  as  much  trouble  in  get- 
ting them  into  position  as  the  storied  one  and  his 
myriad  slaves  had  had  in  getting  the  material  for  the 
great  tomb  across  the  Nile.  But  little  Mac  and  his 
donkey-engine  solved  that. 

By  means  of  a  flume,  the  creek  had  been  diverted 
around  the  dam.  So,  in  complete  safety,  far  from 
prying  eyes,  the  structure  took  form.  The  far-sighted, 
philanthropic  Bodine  had  made  it  •possible  by  .his 
adroit  recalling  «of  the  almost  forgotten  fact  that 
"Webster  Creek  owed  no  allegiance  to  any  other  stream. 
The  water  was  his  and  Acklin's;  to  divide  as  they  saw 
fit,  he  had  said.  He  had  been  slightly  mistaken,  as  he 
would  soon  find  out.  It  was  another  case  of  winner 
take  all. 

The  Big  Boss  may  have  smiled  as  he  thought  of  the 
unhappy  Buck,  but  that  individual  had  found  means 
of  his  own  that  caused  him  to  smile  even  more 'broadly 
whenever  he  remembered  Acklin.  The  present  mo- 
ment was  one  of  these  occasions. 

In  a  bight  in  the  shoulder  of  one  of  the  Timbered 
Buttes  he  and  Shorty  and  Gloomy  were  busily  engaged 
in  a  work  that  was  nothing  short  of  art.  The  good 
grass  in  the  buttes  lured  the  cattle  there.  As  Cash 
had  said,  the  steers  were  ready  for  the  market.  This 
interesting  fact  had  been  perceived  by  the  astute  Buck 
some  time  back.  He  was  now  taking  advantage  of  it 
to  his  own  particular  profit. 

One  of  his  first  acts  on  taking  over  the  "Webster 
ranch  was  to  register  his  brand;  a  circle  W,  with 


WHISPERING  SAGE  169 

arrow.  Back  of  his  choosing  this  particular  brand 
was  concentration  of  a  high  order,  as  will  be  observed. 

Kunning  as  many  cattle  as  they  did,  the  Double  A 
branding  was  not  always  carefully  done.  Therefore 
about  every  fifth  steer  carried  his  Double  A  mark 
slantwise,  or  even  upside  down.  Being  on  their  own 
range,  it  sufficed.  Cattle-rustling  had  become  such  a 
lost  art  that  even  the  ear-notching  had  been  dispensed 
ivith.  Bodine  became  aware  of  these  rudimentary 
facts  without  conscious  effort. 

But  stop  to  contemplate  the  metamorphosis  that 
took  place  when  one  of  these  upside-down  brands  was 
retouched.  A  circle  burnt  around  the  inverted  letters 


made  them  look  like  this    (VTv/ )  The  deft  placing  of 


the  arrow  in  this  fashion  <f\A/J«E  left  no  trace  of 

Acklin's  ownership.  Only  an  expert  in  a  court  of 
law  could  prove  that  it  was  overbranding :  and  that 
only  by  killing  the  yearling  and  stripping  his  hide. 

"What  a  sucker  Acklin  is,"  Bodine  chuckled,  as  he 
burned  his  points  into  the  snorting  steer  on  which  he 
knelt.  There  was  a  light  wind  blowing  that  sent  the 
acrid  smoke  of  the  singeing  hair  into  his  mouth  and 
nostrils  and  made  him  splutter  and  cough. 

Shorty  and  Gloomy  loosened  their  ropes.  Buck 
kicked  the  steer  in  the  ribs,  and  it  dashed  down  the 
arroyo. 


170  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"How  many  is  that?"  the  big  fellow  asked. 

"Twenty,"  Shorty  sang  out. 

"That 's  enough.  We  '11  shoo  'em  out  of  here  in 
a  hurry  now." 

Gloomy  stamped  out  their  little  fire  and  scattered 
the  burnt  ends. 

Half  an  hour  later  a  curve  of  the  hills  hid  them 
from  view. 

Three  miles  to  the  north  of  them  Disaster  Peak 
raised  its  rocky  head.  On  its  flat  surface,  a  field- 
glass  to 'his  eyes,  lay  Kildare.  For  an  hour  he  had 
not  moved.  From  time  to  time  he  had  fancied  he  saw 
a  wisp  of  smoke  rising  from  the  spot  where  Bodine 
and  his  men  had  used  their  iron. 

For  sixteen  days  Melody  and  he  had  roamed  the 
Buttes.  Once  they  had  been  shot  at,  but  they  had 
yet  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  men  they  were  after. 
Twice  in  the  time  they  had  been  out  they  had  drifted 
to  within  hearing  distance  of  the  ranch  on  Webster 
Creek.  No  sight  of  the  bandy-legged  Shorty  had 
rewarded  Blaze:  this,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
Shorty  was  no  longer  skulking  about  the  house.  He 
had  taken  to  the  hills  with  the  others,  and  it  had  been 
his  rifle  that  had  flashed  at  the  Double  A  men. 

Camping  wherever  night  found  them;  without 
water  about  half  the  time ;  daring  a  fire  only  in  the 
very  early  dawn;  they  had  worn  their  tempers  to  a 
razor's  edge.  Even  their  mounts  were  beginning  to 
show  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  chase. 

Blaze  sighed  as  he  stretched  himself. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  171 

"Ain't  you  ever  got  sick  of  this  country ?"  Melody 
asked  as  he  rolled  his  Durham. 

"Once  or  twice.  A  fine  way  to  cure  it  is  to  go 
somewhere  else  for  a  spell.  You  '11  come  back!  I 
been  around  a  little;  the  Yukon,  Old  Mex,  and  Can- 
ada ;  nothing  like  the  West  though.  It  11  all  be  gone 
pretty  soon.  There  were  buffalo  back  in  Wyoming 
when  I  was  a  boy. ' ' 

"Antelope,  too." 

"Everywhere!  Soon  as  you  got  out  in  the  open 
and  topped  a  rise,  you  'd  see  their  white  rears  as  they 
fanned  it  for  a  draw  or  arroyo.  Well,  the  buffalo 
went;  the  antelope  are  gone,  too.  It  won't  be  long 
before  the  cattle  follow  suit.  Farms  and  phonographs 
will  be  cluttering  up  these  valleys  in  another  ten 
years. ' ' 

"They  '11  work  their  cattle  with  a  Ford  then,"  the 
poet  answered  sarcastically.  "It  's  just  the  married 
West  against  the  bachelor  West ;  and  a  bachelor  never 
got  nowheres.  We  '11  have  to  move  on." 

"There  's  no  moving  from  here,  Melody.  This  is 
the  last  stand.  When  this  country  is  broken  up,  the 
West  is  gone." 

The  singer  finished  his  cigarette  in  silence.  "I 
ain't  got  any  use  for  the  three  R's,"  he  groaned,  as 
he  threw  his  butt  away.  "Respectability,  reclama- 
tion, and  rural  free  delivery  don't  sound  good  to  me. 
I  got  to  be  where  I  can  smell  the  old  sage.  You  know 
how  it  hits  you  right  after  a  rain,  when  it  's  wet,  and 
your  horse  tramps  it  down;  I  never  smelled  nothin* 
like  it.  Thrills  me  like  love  does  some  people." 


172  WHISPERING  SAGE 

He  gazed  off  at  the  bare,  unending  expanse  to  the 
southwest,  where  not  a  tree  nor  a  man  nor  beast  broke 
the  line  of  vision.  Glasses  to  his  eyes,  Blaze  resumed 
his  sweeping  inspection  of  it. 

He  again  caught  a  hint  of  smoke  to  the  south.  A 
second — and  it  was  gone.  But  as  he  watched,  a  tiny 
black  cloud  rose  into  the  sky  and  hung  pendant.  He 
handed  the  glasses  to  Melody  as  another  patch  of 
smoke  went  up. 

"Somebody  stampin'  a  fire  out  down  there, "  he 
muttered  as  he  looked. 

' '  I  thought  I  got  a  trace  of  smoke  there  a  little  while 
ago,"  Blaze  replied.  "I  '11  bet  they  've  been  singeing 
hair  in  that  dent  in  the  hills. ' ' 

"What  are  you  goin'  to  do?" 

Kildare  was  putting  his  saddle  on  his  horse. 

"I  'm  going  after  them.     Shake  a  leg!" 

"Well,  they  sure  got  the  jump  on  us.  It  's  over 
four  miles  to  those  coulees.  With  the  start  they  got, 
they  can  hit  for  a  dozen  places." 

"I  '11  tell  you  about  that  to-morrow,"  Blaze  flung 
back  as  My  Man  began  picking  his  way  gingerly  down 
the  steep  sides  of  the  peak. 

They  were  well  into  the  valley  by  the  time  Shorty 
and  Gloomy  had  goaded  the  recalcitrant  steers  to  the 
sluggish  dog-trot  that  would  bring  them  near  evening 
to  the  head  of  Webster  Creek.  The  ashes  of  Bodine's 
fire  were  still  warm  when  the  Double  A  men  found 
them. 

Melody  had  made  a  thousand  similar  fires  in  his 
lifetime. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  173 

" Bustlers,  all  right,"  lie  asserted. 

Blaze  looked  at  the  slowly  purpling  sage  that  be- 
tokened the  coming  night. 

"What  did  you  expect?  Missionaries ?"  he  said 
grimly. 

He  knew  that  only  the  slimmest  chance  remained 
that  they  could  catch  up  with  the  brand-burners. 

The  poet  sensed  his  thought.     "Well?"  he  queried. 

"They  are  better  than  an  hour  ahead  of  us.  It  '11 
be  black  night  in  the  canons  in  two  hours.  We  got 
to  be  in  the  open  before  then.  It  's  just  a  chance; 
let 's  pound  leather!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

NO  hint  of  the  building  of  the  dam  had  reached 
Kildare  and  Melody.  The  construction  of  it 
had  moved  forward  without  a  hitch.  Acklin  took  a 
prideful  pleasure  in  sitting  for  hours  at  a  time  watch- 
ing the  workmen.  Gallagher  promised  that  he  would 
he  finished  in  another  five  days.  By  a  strange  but 
entirely  human  quirk  in  his  cosmos,  the  Big  Boss  often 
fancied  as  he  sat  there  that  the  elder  Acklin  reached 
down  an  approving  hand  from  his  heavenly  home  and 
patted  him  on  the  back  for  having  accomplished  this 
work  of  stone  and  cement,  which  would  make  the 
Double  A  independent  even  of  the  weather.  He  often 
imagined  he  felt  the  ghostly  hand  of  his  benignant 
father  tremble  as  he  realized  that  at  last  Paradise 
Valley  was  going  to  be  a  part  of  the  Double  A  empire. 

Owing  to  Morrow's  vigilance  and  old  Wash's  fond- 
ness for  the  mighty  dollar,  no  word  of  the  work  had 
passed  the  Double  A  frontier.  The  Basques  moved 
about  in  sullen  hate.  Kent  and  Brand  had  promised 
relief,  but  the  long-suffering  ranchers  were  learning 
anew  the  exasperating  slowness  of  the  law. 

Desolation  stalked  from  one  end  of  the  valley  to  the 
other.  Springs  and  wells  were  drained  dry.  The 
Little  Washoe  held  only  a  trickle  of  water.  The 
autumn  rains  were  still  weeks  away.  No  wonder  the 

174 


WHISPERING  SAGE  175 

people  of  the  valley  stared  with  brooding,  hopeless 
eyes  at  the  copper-colored  sun  that  daily  swung  across 
the  sky. 

Owing  to  Mercedes's  care,  Esteban  was  as  well  as 
ever.  He  kept  the  hacienda  supplied  with  enough 
water  for  the  bare  necessities  of  life  by  sinking  shallow 
wells  in  the  bed  of  the  creek ;  a  bucketful  or  two,  and 
they  went  dry.  Still,  it  sufficed  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together. 

He  had  kept  his  word  with  Kent  that  he  would  not 
resort  to  violence  again.  But,  as  he  came  home  day 
after  day  from  his  long  rides  about  the  Rancho  or 
from  meeting  his  neighbors,  and  encountered  Mer- 
cedes's expectant  eyes  without  being  able  to  give  her 
any  word  of  encouragement,  he  began  to  lose  faith  in 
the  little  man. 

Mercedes  saw  the  impatience  growing  in  her  brother. 
Her  trust  in  Kent  had  not  wavered,  but  it  was  with 
thankfulness  in  her  heart  that  she  heard  Esteban  say 
that  Kent  would  be  home  the  following  day. 

She  carried  a  gun  now  and  frequently  went  about 
the  Rancho  alone.  She  often  thought  of  Kildare. 
Where  he  had  disappeared  to  was  a  mystery.  Mer- 
cedes could  not  believe  that  he  had  gone  away  with- 
out even  saying  good-by.  That  she  had  hurt  him  she 
did  not  doubt.  Still  if  Blaze  could  have  known  that 
on  these  rides  she  never  topped  a  rise  without  hoping 
to  meet  him,  he  would  have  felt  well  repaid  for  the 
heartache  she  had  caused. 

Bodine's  injunction,  as  far  as  she  knew,  had  had 
no  other  effect  than  to  keep  her  people  from  inter- 


176  WHISPERING  SAGE 

fering  with  the  creeks.  Kent  had  used  it  as  a  club 
to  stop  his  Basque  friends  from  getting  beyond  the 
law.  That  she  had  seen  nothing  of  Acklin,  she  put 
down  to  his  being  afraid  to  venture  into  the  valley. 

Her  intense  hatred  of  the  man  prompted  this 
thought.  The  Big  Boss  had  ridden  through  Paradise 
several  times  in  the  last  ten  days.  As  the  dam  grew 
near  completion,  both  Gallagher  and  he  now  and  then 
found  it  necessary  to  hurry  to  Winnemucca  for  some 
needed  tool  or  equipment. 

Mercedes  found  cause  to  change  her  opinion  that 
very  day.  She  had  gone  to  the  cemetery  and  was  on 
her  way  home  when  she  came  upon  both  Acklin  and 
Gallagher.  The  contractor  rode  on  as  the  ranchman 
turned  his  horse  across  the  girl 's  trail.  The  cold  eyes 
and  the  stolid  expression  with  which  Mercedes  re- 
garded him  as  she  ignored  his  greeting  caused  the  Big 
Boss  to  change  his  tactics. 

' '  Things  look  pretty  bad  down  here,  Mercedes, ' '  he 
said,  with  a  show  of  sympathy.  "I  suppose  you  are 
pretty  well  discouraged.'7 

The  girl  read  in  his  words  a  thinly  veiled  hope  that 
she  would  throw  herself  upon  his  mercy.  As  if  she 
did  not  know  the  futility  of  appealing  to  him  for  fair 
play! 

1  'My  people  were  never  easily  discouraged  in  the 
past,  Senor,"  she  answered  with  pride.  "What  we 
had,  we  made  for  ourselves. " 

"There  won't  be  any  use  in  fighting  much  longer. 
No,  there  won't,  Mercedes,"  he  repeated,  as  she  smiled 
scornfully.  ' '  The  past  will  have  to  take  care  of  Itself, 


WHISPERING  SAGE  177 

I  'm  talking  about  now.  Your  people  may  have  over- 
come a  lot,  but  they  had  water.  There  's  no  water 
now;  and  there  won't  be  any.  I  don't  want  to  see 
you  turned  out  the  way  these  other  folks  will  be.  I 
been  aimin'  to  come  down  to  see  you  for  three  or  four 
days,  but  I  couldn't  make  it." 

"You  should  send  your  man,"  Mercedes  cut  in 
provokingly. 

"Still  thinking  about  him,  eh?"  Acklin's  brows 
contracted.  "I  got  him  over  in  the  buttes  where  he 
won't  bother  you  none.  That  reminds  me;  you  were 
none  too  nice  to  me  the  last  time  I  was  at  the  hacienda, 
but  that 's  all  right.  I  'm  reasonable.  You  're  dead 
set  against  me  on  account  of  something,  and  here  I  've 
been  trying  to  figure  out  a  plan  to  help  you  ever 
since  this  fight  began." 

The  withering  irony  of  the  laughter  that  greeted 
this  statement  brought  an  angry  flush  to  Acklin's 
cheeks. 

"You  help  me,  huh?  Ha,  ha,  ha!  Si,  si!  I  come 
now  from  the  grave  of  one  you  help,  too." 

Mercedes's  voice  cut  with  its  sharpness  as  she  con- 
tinued : 

"You  fool  him,  Senor,  with  your  lies.  But  you  do 
not  fool  me !  You  have  never  help  any  one  but  your- 
self." 

*  *  But  I  don 't  want  to  fight  you, ' '  Acklin  continued 
in  that  same  low,  uncompromising  tone.  I  '11  buy  the 
Rancho,  and  give  you  a  good  price;  twice  what  I  'd 
give  anybody  else." 

Sell  Buena  Vista !    The  place  her  father  had  been  a 


178  WHISPERING  SAGE 

lifetime  building !  Mercedes  felt  as  if  a  divine  spirit 
came  to  aid  her  as  she  shook  her  head. 

"No!  No!  We  may  starve;  you  may  even  take 
the  Rancho  away  from  us  by  force.  But  we  will  not 
sell!'7 

"You  '11  change  your  mind;  and  I  may  change 
mine.  You  better  not  wait  until  I  do.  You  've  got 
close  to  a  thousand  acres.  Without  water  it  isn't 
worth  a  thing.  I  '11 " 

She  looked  at  him.  He  was  leading  somewhere. 
She  knew  that. 

"I  '11  buy  in  all  I  want  at  my  own  price, ' '  he  went 
on  evenly.  "But  I  want  to  prove  that  I  am  your 
friend.  I  'd  do  a  lot  for  you,  Mercedes.  Yes,  I 
would.  I  '11  give  you  ten  dollars  an  acre  for  all  you 
own.  That  '11  give  you  a  good  nest-egg.  Your  father 
didn't  have  any  debts  to  speak  of." 

"Ten  dollars,  huh?"  she  quoted  sarcastically. 
"You  are  too  kind,  Senor.  A  month  ago  my  father 
would  have  refused  a  hundred  dollars  an  acre  for  most 
of  the  Rancho.  But  if  you  offered  me  twice  ten  dol- 
lars my  answer  would  be  the  same;  we  will  not  sell!" 

"That  's  my  offer.  I  'm  ready  to  pay  you  good 
money,  for  old  sake 's  sake.  You  can  take  it,  or  fight. ' ' 

Acklin  snapped  out  the  last  two  words. 

"Here  comes  Kent  and  your  brother  now.  You 
talk  it  over  with  Esteban.  I  '11  stand  by  my  promise." 

"Hello,  Miss  Mercedes,"  Tuscarora  called  out. 

The  girl  felt  his  cheerfulness  was  forced.  Her 
brother  reflected  the  little  man's  mood.  The  boy 
ignored  Acklin,  but  Kent  gave  him  a  curt  nod. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  179 

" Did  n't  expect  to  see  you  down  here,"  he  said. 

"The  surprise  is  mutual,  Kent." 

Without  any  preamble  Joe  jumped  on  the  thing 
that  was  on  his  mind.  "Brand  and  I  got  to  the  bot- 
tom of  this  fight  a  little  sooner  than  we  expected." 
He  stopped  to  regard  the  Big  Boss  accusingly.  "You 
play  it  whole  hog  or  none,  don't  you?" 

Acklin's  answer  was  his  stock  grin. 

"This  fight  goes  'way  beyond  any  question  of 
water,"  Tuscarora  continued.  "We  wasn't  votin' 
to  suit  you.  It  did  n  't  matter  as  long  as  your  crowd 
was  doing  the  countin'.  But  with  Brand  gettin' 
ready  to  check  up  each  vote  and  see  that  it  went  to 
the  man  it  was  cast  for,  well,  somethin'  had  to  be 
done.  So  you  hit  upon  this  scheme  to  grab  every- 
thin'  in  sight,  and  starve  us  out  of  the  county  at  the 
same  time.  It  's  been  done  before." 

"There  won't  be  any  question  about  your  going, 
I  guess." 

Acklin's  voice  was  defiant. 

"We  won't  go!"  Esteban  hurled  at  him.  "Don't 
forget  that.  We  can  sit  tight.  We  know  this 
Bodine's  only  a  capper  for  you.  It  's  your  own 
private  show,  Acklin." 

"Is  that  a  question?" 

"You  don't  have  to  answer  it,"  the  little  man  flung 
back.  * '  I  know  that  you  've  got  the  skids  all  greased 
for  us.  If  we  jolt  the  law  again,  the  sheriff  butts  in. 
If  he  ain't  strong  enough  your  little  old  governor 
will  get  in  touch  with  Washington,  and  the  U.  S.  A. 
will  trot  out  a  few  regulars  from  Fort  Douglas  or 


180  WHISPERING  SAGE 

the  Presidio.  Oh,  yes!  If  we  start  that  mill  a- 
grindin'  we  lose." 

The  Big  Boss  pretended  to  laugh. 

"We  must  get  water  on  our  land  soon  or  our  claims 
die,"  Mercedes  stated.  "Just  before  you  come,  the 
Senor  say  that  very  thing  to  me." 

Tuscarora  turned  to  the  girl. 

"Well,  we  've  got  to  keep  within  the  law  if  we  never 
get  a  drop  of  water.  That 's  the  only  way  we  can 
fool  him." 

Kent  pulled  up  his  horse  as  a  sign  that  the  conver- 
sation was  at  an  end.  Mercedes  and  Esteban  trotted 
off  silent  and  sullen.  Kent  lingered  a  second. 

"There  's  only  one  thing  you  didn't  fix,  Acklin," 
they  heard  Tuscarora  say.  "That  's  public  opinion. 
You  might  get  away  with  this  grab  in  Germany  or 
Russia,  or  back  East  in  the  coal  country,  with  only 
a  lot  of  bohunks  to  fight  you.  But  this  is  America; 
and  we  're  Americans.  You  can't  scare  us." 

After  supper  that  evening  Esteban  rode  into  Para- 
dise with  Kent.  The  excitement  that  greeted  the  news 
of  Acklin 's  offer  almost  cost  Tuscarora  his  leadership. 
It  crystallized  the  temper  of  the  crowd ;  and  it  ended 
their  groping  in  the  dark.  The  days  of  suspicion  and 
surmise  were  past.  For  the  first  time,  the  Double  A 
had  come  out  in  the  open.  Each  one  of  them  knew 
now  what  he  faced. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

KENT  sat  in  his  room  the  following  morning  with 
bowed  head.  No  man  could  have  tried  harder 
to  find  an  opening  by  which  he  and  his  friends  could 
get  justice.  But  the  temper  of  the  crowd  of  the  night 
before  was  evidence  enough  that  he  had  failed.  His 
words  had  sounded  empty  in  the  face  of  Acklin's 
threat.  If  they  must  lose  anyway,  it  certainly  would 
be  better  to  go  down  fighting  than  to  stand  idly  by, 
as  they  had  been  doing,  and  see  their  ranches  taken 
away  without  a  struggle  to  keep  them. 

The  little  man  easily  understood  his  friends*  phil- 
osophy. He  knew  the  Basque  make-up  well  enough 
to  understand  that,  in  spite  of  all  argument,  they 
would  never  admit  they-  could  not  drive  Acklin  back 
by  force  until  they  had  tried  it. 

He  came  downstairs  and  walked  over  to  Benavides  's 
place.  The  nods  and  greetings  he  received  were  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  manner  in  which  he  had  once 
been  met.  The  whispering  and  low-toned  conversa- 
tion, which  stopped  on  his  approach,  told  Kent  as 
plainly  as  though  he  had  read  it  in  a  newspaper  that 
trouble  was  brewing.  "When  it  would  come  would 
depend  entirely  on  who  was  behind  the  agitation. 

As  he  came  out  of  the  saloon  and  saw  Esteban  turn 
into  the  post-office  to  avoid  meeting  him,  he  had  his 

181 


182  WHISPERING  SAGE 

answer.  He  would  be  surprised  if  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours  did  not  see  the  Basques  pouring  up  the 
valley  of  the  Rebel. 

It  was  coming  sooner  than  even  Kent  surmised. 
Out  of  the  group-fear  of  hunger,  which  has  dogged 
the  steps  of  the  human  race  since  man  took  possession 
of  the  earth,  had  come  common  enlightenment  and  a 
cry  for  concerted  action. 

Old  Ironsides'  son  moved  about  the  town  giving 
his  commands  with  a  new  dignity  that  was  subtly 
reminiscent  of  his  father.  Romero  was  pushed  aside ; 
he  took  his  orders  from  Esteban. 

The  boy  had,  in  truth,  become  the  leader  of  his 
people. 

That  evening,  an  hour  before  sunset,  they  were  to 
strike. 

The  appointed  time  found  them  pouring  along  the 
road  to  the  old  meeting-place  north  of  the  hacienda, 
the  westering  sun  blinking  on  their  gun-barrels.  Not 
a  man  had  stayed  behind.  It  was  mass  action,  in 
deep  contrast  to  the  boyish  adventure  that  had  failed 
so  miserably. 

Picks,  shovels,  guns,  ammunition  came  from  unex- 
pected places.  As  they  gathered  a  hundred  strong, 
Esteban  appraised  them.  These  were  not  boys.  They 
were  grim,  determined  men  bent  upon  the  preserva- 
tion of  their  homes. 

In  orderly  precision  they  moved  on  the  Double  A 
wire.  When  they  were  within  a  mile  of  it,  they 
spread  out  fanwise  to  attack  it  from  the  west  and 
south. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  183 

Esteban  lighted  his  smoke  signal,  and  the  fan  con- 
verged. From  a  dozen  points  the  little  groups  dashed 
into  the  bottom-land  where  he  had  been  wounded 
weeks  ago.  Guns  were  ready,  the  will  to  do  or  die 
in  their  hearts;  but  not  a  shot  was  fired. 

The  fence  was  unguarded. 

A  quick  use  of  nippers,  and  the  wire  was  down.  In 
double  file  they  trailed  up  the  dry  bed  of  the  stream, 
their  guns  held  ready.  Twenty  minutes  brought  them 
within  sight  of  the  dead  trees  that  marked  the  con- 
fluence of  the  "Webster  and  the  Rebel.  They  stopped. 

Horses  were  left  behind,  here.  In  Indian  fashion 
they  swarmed  past  the  face  of  the  mesa  on  which  Kil- 
dare  had  lain  the  night  the  water  was  diverted.  It 
was  a  likely  spot  for  an  ambush;  but  even  there  no 
hand  arose  to  oppose  them. 

At  their  feet  ran  the  water  they  had  come  to  claim. 

Esteban  posted  his  lookouts.  Picks  and  shovels  took 
the  place  of  guns.  With  muscles  primed  for  their 
task,  and  a  will  to  fire  them  on,  they  attacked  the 
barrier  that  had  impoverished  them. 

The  very  intentness  with  which  they  applied  them- 
selves kept  them  from  seeing  a  miracle  that  was  hap- 
pening even  as  they  worked.  Unnoticed,  the  swift 
current  of  the  Rebel  dropped  to  sluggishness.  No 
longer  did  it  dash  into  the  mouth  of  the  Webster. 
The  change  was  slow  and  gradual;  but  over  at  Bo- 
dine  's  ranch  it  had  been  appallingly  sudden. 

Buck,  out  of  his  saddle  only  some  ten  minutes,  had 
been  on  the  point  of  sousing  a  pail  into  the  stream 
at  his  feet  when  the  creek  that  only  a  minute  before 


184  WHISPERING  SAGE 

had  been  full  to  its  banks  dwindled  to  a  thin  trickle 
that  lapped  the  stones  old  Hank  Webster  had  used 
as  a  crossing. 

And  even  as  he  continued  to  stare  speechlessly  at 
the  receding  water,  it  died  away  to  nothing.  Only 
momentarily  was  his  profane  tongue  stilled.  He 
hurled  his  bucket  to  the  ground  with  such  violence 
that  it  broke  into  kindling.  He  tore  his  hair  and  cried 
out  his  wrath  in  tones  that  echoed  up  and  down  the 
canon.  He  stamped  his  feet  and  he  swore,  and  con- 
signed the  entire  race  of  Basques  to  agonies  only  a 
devil  could  have  conceived. 

' '  The  law ! "  he  wailed.  ' '  They  've  broken  the  law ! 
What  good  is  law  if  people  won't  live  up  to  it?" 

If  Buck  ever  recalled  this  speech,  it  must  have  made 
him  smile.  It  was  not  funny  to  him  at  the  moment. 
In  a  voice  to  wake  the  dead,  he  called  for  his  boys. 
But  his  own  cleverness  had  sent  them  out  of  reach. 
As  soon  as  they  had  struck  the  ranch,  he  had  ordered 
Shorty  and  Gloomy  and  the  others  to  drive  the  stolen 
steers  to  the  lower  end  of  the  ranch  where  they  would 
soon  mingle  with  the  other  stock,  the  greater  part  of 
which  had  been  acquired  in  quite  the  same  manner 
as  had  won  this  herd  of  twenty. 

Realization  of  his  predicament  caused  another  out- 
burst of  anger;  it  dulled  his  ears  to  the  approach  of 
two  horsemen  coming  from  the  north.  They  rode  at 
a  leisurely  gait  that  was  little  in  keeping  with  their 
tempers.  The  two.  riders  were  Kildare  and  Melody. 

They  had  almost  reached  his  barn  before  Bodine 
became  aware  of  them.  He  recognized  Kildare.  The 


WHISPERING  SAGE  185 

disappearance  of  the  water  had  been  so  immediate  and 
all-engrossing  that  he  had  lost  some  of  his  native 
cunning,  or  else  he  would  not  have  overlooked  the  fact 
that  they  came  from  the  same  direction  from  which  he 
and  his  men  had  so  lately  arrived.  He  would  have 
weighed  their  intrusion,  doubted  their  explanations, 
and  watched  for  them  to  trip  themselves  on  their  own 
words.  Instead  of  which  he  turned  to  them  to  witness 
the  trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him. 

"Look  at  that,  Kildafe,"  he  cried,  pointing  to  the 
dry  creek-bottom.  "Not  a  pailful  left!" 

Melody  and  Blaze  exchanged  a  quick,  uneasy  glance. 
"What  had  happened  while  they  had  been  in  the  hills? 
Had  there  been  another  fight  ? 

"Goin',  goin',"  Melody  quoted  facetiously. 

' '  Goin '  ?' '  Buck  roared.  ' l  You  mean  gone !  But  I 
ain't!  I  ain't  gone!  I  '11  get  the  cuckoos  that  did 
this.  You  wait." 

The  clatter  of  his  boots  on  the  wooden  steps  that  led 
into  his  kitchen  drowned  his  angry  words  as  he  dashed 
for  his  rifle. 

"Look  at  the  ground,"  Melody  whispered.  "It  's 
all  pawed  up.  He  got  our  stuff.  Drove  right  by 
here." 

"Don't  say  anything,"  Blaze  cautioned.  "He  11 
try  it  again." 

Through  the  open  door  they  could  see  Bodine  filling 
his  belt  with  shells.  Kildare  felt  his  fingers  itching 
to  get  hold  of  one  of  them.  But  the  more  urgent 
question  of  their  own  immediate  conduct  drove  the 
thought  from  his  mind  as  he  said: 


186  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"He  's  killing  mad  right  now,  Melody.  We  11  go 
with  him.  If  he  goes  after  anybody,  get  him  first." 

Bodine  was  back  the  next  instant. 

"Come  on,"  he  cried.  "We  '11  get  inside  the  wire 
here  and  hit  it  up  for  the  forks.  They  hain  't  no  damn 
Basque  goin'  to  put  this  over  on  me." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

WITH  a  rattle  of  hoofs  they  thundered  across  the 
wooden  bridge  Bodine  had  built  over  the 
Webster.  But  even  before  they  were  out  of  sight  an 
echo  of  the  calamity  that  had  befallen  Buck  had 
reached  the  men  toiling  at  the  barrier  between  the 
two  creeks. 

*  *  The  water  's  going ! ' '  some  one  cried. 

Shovels  were  dropped  as  they  stared  open-mouthed 
at  the  miracle  taking  place  before  them.  Cold  fear 
settled  on  some  as  old  Ortega  wailed  that  it  was  a 
heavenly  visitation  for  their  sins. 

"  Visitation  nothing !"  Esteban  shouted.  The  un- 
guarded fence  began  to  take  on  a  sinister  look. 

"If  it  is  not  so,"  the  old  man  flared  back,  "where 
has  the  water  gone?" 

"Keep  your  guns  handy,"  the  youthful  leader  sang 
out.  "It  's  a  trap.  The  fence  was  left  unguarded 
purposely. ' f 

The  trees  that  lined  the  Webster  offered  the  best 
cover.  Esteban  hurried  his  men  behind  them.  This 
accomplished,  he  sent  Romero  and  five  or  six  com- 
panions beating  through  the  brush.  They  were  back 
in  fifteen  minutes  without  having  seen  a  sign  of  an 
enemy. 

By  the  time  they  had  held  a  consultation,  Bodine 
187 


188  WHISPERING  SAGE 

and  the  two  Double  A  men  had  drawn  into  sight. 
The  road  they  were  following  led  across  an  open  plain 
for  half  a  mile  before  it  reached  the  creek. 

The  Basques  were  ready.  Esteban  cautioned  them 
not  to  shoot.  Lying  in  the  heavy  underbrush,  they 
were  not  visible  to  the  oncoming  horsemen.  The  three 
men  were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  creek  before 
they  caught  the  first  hint  of  ambush. 

Bodine  went  for  his  rifle,  but  Esteban  stopped  him 
with  "Hands  up,  or  we  '11  shoot  to  kill!" 

The  way  the  rifles  began  to  peek  out  of  the  dead 
brush  convinced  the  three  riders  that  wisdom  was 
the  better  part  of  valor. 

"Come  on,"  Esteban  cried.  "We  want  to  talk  to 
you." 

When  they  had  ridden  up,  the  boy  flashed  a  sur- 
prised look  at  Blaze. 

"You  're  in  fine  company,  all  right.  Put  your 
hands  down,  but  don't  make  a  move  for  your  guns." 

Bodine  trailed  his  eyes  over  the  determined  Basques. 

"Ortega,  Ugarde,  Arrascada — humph!  All  the  so- 
cial leaders  are  on  hand,  I  see,"  he  muttered  aloud. 
"Well,  why  don't  you  shoot,  or  do  something  to  cele- 
brate the  cute  trick  you  birds  played  on  me." 

He  watched  the  crowd  for  a  minute.  His  eyes  nar- 
rowed to  mere  slits  through  which  the  soul  of  the 
killer  peered  ominously. 

"You  mean,  that  you  played  on  us,"  Esteban  flung 
at  him.  "You  and  your  injunction!  Take  a  look  at 
that!" 

Bodine 's  eyes  followed  his  as  he  pointed  to  the  dry 


WHISPERING  SAGE 

bed  of  the  Rebel  above  the  place  where  it  joined  the 
"Webster.  His  mouth  became  just  a  great  sagging 
gash  as.  comprehension  of  the  fact  that  the  Rebel  was 
as  dry  as  the  Webster  dawned  on  him.  A  guttural 
throat  noise  escaped  the  man.  Unconsciously  he 
blinked  his  eyes,  but  he  had  not  been  deceived  by  a 
hallucination.  His  face  grew  white  as  anger  writhed 
for  an  outlet. 

Blaze  and  Melody  exchanged  a  furtive  glance. 
Kildare's  face  remained  placid.  Apparently  uncon- 
cerned, he  watched  Bodine.  He  saw  the  big  fellow's 
eyes  roam  over  the  half -demolished  barrier  and  a 
deeper  pallor  come  to  his  cheeks  as  he  sensed  that  the 
men  before  him  had  not  taken  the  water. 

With  surprise  that  equaled  his  own,  the  Basques 
saw  the  consternation  and  awe  that  gripped  their 
enemy.  Bodine 's  lips  closed  over  his  wet  fangs.  The 
look  of  horror  passed.  His  cunning  rat  eyes  began  to 
shift  from  the  Double  A  men  to  them.  But  the  angry 
torrent  they  expected  did  not  follow.  A  suspicion  of 
the  truth  was  in  the  look  he  gave  Kildare.  His  ani- 
mal intuition  was  warning  him  of  the  trap.  Bestial 
anger  enveloped  him,  but  he  held  his  prolifically  pro- 
fane tongue ;  and  the  effort  left  him  weak  and  flabby. 

"What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that?"  Esteban  de- 
manded in  accents  that  clicked. 

Bewildered,  Bodine  rolled  his  head  from  side  to 
side. 

"Acklin,"  he  muttered  slowly;  "he  's  fooled  us 
all." 

"Acklin?" 


190  WHISPERING  SAGE 

A  rumbling  murmur  passed  through  the  crowd  as 
it  echoed  Esteban's  question. 

The  boy  turned  on  Blaze: 

"Is  that  right,  Kildare?" 

The  crowd  shifted  its  attention  to  the  Double  A 
man.  Blaze  met  their  stare  calmly. 

"We  've  been  up  beyond  the  peak  for  almost  three 
weeks.  We  haven't  seen  a  Double  A  man  since  we 
left/' 

"What  you  been  doin'  in  the  Buttes?"  Bodine 
growled. 

"You  ought  to  know,"  Melody  snapped  back,  too 
late  for  Blaze  to  check  him. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  dirty " 

Bodine 's  hand  was  at  his  holster. 

"Go  on/'  Blaze  urged.  "You  11  never  live  to  get 
that  gun  out." 

He  had  not  moved,  but  there  was  a  deadly  convic- 
tion in  his  voice.  Buck  stopped  where  he  was. 

"That  '11  keep,"  he  said  meaningly.  Then  to  Este- 
ban :  "Let  's  find  out  if  Acklin  has  tricked  this  creek. " 

The  boy's  crowd  answered  for  him  with  a  cry  of 
assent. 

Side  by  side  the  two  parties  moved,  slowly  at  first  j 
but  as  they  found  nothing  to  reward  them,  their  pace 
quickened  until  it  became  a  mad  scramble,  as  if  each 
was  trying  to  be  the  first  to  find  the  answer  to  the 
mystery. 

And  then,  as  they  rounded  the  bend  where  the  creek 
narrowed  as  it  came  dashing  out  of  Martin  Canon,  the 
truth  struck  them  as  though  they  were  but  one  man. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  191 

High  across  the  chasm  before  them  bulked  the  mighty- 
dam,  the  top  of  thevsolid  mass  of  masonry  bathed  in 
the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

A  heart-rending  cry  of  anguish  arose  from  their 
lips. 

The  creek-bottom  was  already  in  shadow.  There 
they  huddled  with  blank  faces,  their  eyes  staring, 
riveted  to  the  structure  that  towered  high  above  them. 
It  was  austere,  forbidding. 

They  had  crossed  frowning  seas;  broached  high, 
hills  and  leveled  them;  they  had  wrested  from  the 
desert  a  grudging  foothold,  and  the  fight  had  been  a 
bitter  one.  They  had  faced  the  loss  of  their  dear  ones, 
wept  their  tears,  and  plodded  on  again.  Nothing  had 
daunted  them.  Now  they  looked  on  Acklin's  handi- 
work and  their  hearts  sank.  It  was  the  cunning  of 
the  devil  that  confronted  them. 

Esteban  recalled  the  words  the  Big  Boss  had  often 
used  to  them : 

"Possession  is  nine  points  of  the  law." 

He  had  possession  now.     This  gave  it  to  him, 

A  feeling  of  fatality  grasped  his  comrades.  This 
thing  of  rock  and  concrete  crushed  and  destroyed  their 
spirit.  Like  the  law  and  the  ways  of  God,  Acklin 
and  his  dam  were  not  understandable  to  their  primi- 
tive minds. 

Some  of  them  got  to  their  knees  and  prayed ;  others 
raised  their  hands  to  heaven  and  moaned  or  blas- 
phemed. But  above  all  sound  arose  the  croaking  voice 
of  old  Ortega  as  he  repeated  his  oracular  "It  is  a 
visitation  of  God  upon  us  for  our  sins!" 


192  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  astonishment  of  the  Double  A  men  was  equal 
to  that  of  the  Basques.  To  Melody,  the  dam  was  only 
another  evidence  of  Acklin's  ability  to  get  what  he 
went  after. 

In  Kildare  it  awakened  strange  emotions.  For  one 
thing,  it  revealed  the  Big  Boss  as  he  had  seen  him; 
hard,  uncompromising,  ruthless.  But  a  sense  of  loss, 
a  feeling  of  sadness,  that  quite  outweighed  any  con- 
sideration of  Acklin,  filled  him.  Over  and  over  he 
asked  himself  what  she  was  going  to  do  now.  A  glance 
at  her  brother's  face  brought  his  question  home  even 
more  pointedly.  What  would  Mercedes  do  now? 

He  had  no  thought  of  himself  or  of  Melody.  And 
yet  he  must  have  realized  how  desperate  was  their 
plight.  Out  of  all  this,  however,  there  came  one  sus- 
taining thing:  the  utter  collapse  of  Bodine.  He  was 
through,  double-crossed,  and  in  the  very  manner  in 
which  Kent  had  predicted  he  would  be. 

Blaze  watched  him.  The  man  had  dismounted  and 
was  pacing  up  and  down  the  dry  creek-bed.  Every 
ten  or  twelve  steps  he  would  turn  suddenly  and,  shak- 
ing his  fist  at  the  giant  wall,  pour  out  a  string  of 
•curses  and  threats  that  burned  the  air.  He  would 
have  killed  Acklin  on  sight  in  his  present  mood. 
Whenever  he  recalled  that  he,  the  blundering,  stupid 
idiot,  had  pulled  this  coal  out  of  the  fire  for  the 
Double  A,  he  raved  like  a  madman. 

Esteban  spurred  up  to  the  big  fellow,  the  manner 
in  which  Bodine  had  given  way  filling  him  with  dis- 
gust. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  193 

"Dry  up  that  noise/7  he  called  out.  "That  kind 
of  talk  won't  get  you  any  thing. " 

Blaze  felt  a  silent  admiration  for  the  young  fellow 's 
grit.  Bodine  also  caught  the  tone  of  authority  in  his 
voice. 

"Well,  what  are  we  goin'  to  do?"  he  demanded. 

"You  forget  that  we  stuff,  Bodine,"  Esteban  said 
hotly.  "What  my  people  do,  they  11  do  without  any 
help  from  you.  We  're  not  forgetting,  you  double- 
crossed  stool-pigeon!  Acklin  has  played  you  for  a 
fool,  but  you  'd  have  driven  us  out  if  you  could." 

A  guttural  chorus  approved  his  words. 

"Have  it  your  own  way,"  the  big  fellow  roared. 
"I  'd  'a'  lined  up  with  you;  we  'd  'a'  give  Acklin  a 
taste  of  his  own  medicine.  He  couldn't  lick  us  all. 
You  go  ahead,  and  see  where  you  get  off.  You  got 
two  of  his  pets  right  here.  What  you  goin'  to  do 
with  them?" 

Bodine  was  playing  to  the  crowd  now.  There  was 
a  quick  movement  toward  the  Double  A  men.  Blaze 
and  Melody  backed  up  against  the  stone  wall.  Este- 
ban got  in  front  of  them.  He  faced  his  own  people 
with  his  gun  raised. 

"Firme  amig&st!"  he  cried  to  them  in  their  own 
tongue.  ' '  This  man  let  me  get  away  the  night  I  first 
came  around  the  wire.  I  had  put  a  bullet  through 
his  shoulder ;  there  was  no  reason  this  side  of  hell  why 
he  should  have  let  me  go,  but  he  did.  It  is  not  our 
way  to  forget.  He  and  his  friend  go  free." 

Esteban  turned  to  Blaze: 


194  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"I  *m  squaring  my  score  with  you  right  now,  Kil- 
dare.  You  beat  it !  And  take  this  message  to  Acklin : 
'Keep  out  of  Paradise!  We  '11  shoot  to  kill  after  to- 
night. '  That  means  you,  too.  Acklin  wants  war,  and 
he  's  going  to  have  it.  Get  started ! ' ' 

Melody  followed  Blaze  as  the  Basques  opened  up 
io  let  them  through.  The  poet  had  begun  to  under- 
stand many  things  that  had  been  a  closed  book  to 
him  up  to  now.  His  fondness  for  the  man  grew.  He 
marveled  at  the  unconcern  with  which  his  friend  led 
the  way  down  the  little  avenue  of  hostile  guns  that 
could  have  blown  them  to  pieces  with  a  touch  of  the 
finger. 

Shut-mouthed,  silent,  Kildare  won  the  respect  of  all 
of  them.  Bodine  smiled  contemptuously.  Esteban 
surprised  the  expression  in  his  eyes. 

' '  You  heard,  Bodine, ' '  he  muttered  ominously.  ' '  It 
goes  for  you.  When  crooks  fall  out,  it  's  a  long  drop. 
You  'd  better  drop  out  of  sight. " 

Buck  tried  to  interrupt,  but  the  boy  waved  him 
down  with  a  word :  ' '  Git ! ' ' 

A  movement  in  the  crowd  made  it  eloquent. 

Night  was  at  hand.  The  whippoorwills  were  chant- 
ing their  monotonous  dirge  as  they  winged  across  the 
whispering  sage.  Defeated,  broken,  tired  with  their 
struggling,  the  weary  Basques  were  alone  at  last  in 
the  graying  twilight  with  the  fate  that  confronted 
them.  They  had  come  to  the  battle  strong  and  deter- 
mined, but  now,  as  they  turned  to  begin  the  long  trip 
back  to  their  homes,  they  moved  with  bowed  heads. 
They  were  beaten. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  195 

And  high  above  them,  belly-down  on  the  wide  top 
of  the  dam,  lay  Morrow  and  twenty  of  his  men,  rifles 
at  their  sides,  watching  the  retreat.  The  vaudeville 
the  Big  Boss  had  arranged  for  their  entertainment 
and  the  enlightenment  of  Mr.  Bodine  had  been  a 
satisfying  success. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

IN  the  days  that  followed,  Kildare  watched  Bodine's 
movements  with  untiring  patience.  Acklin  had 
sent  Melody  and  him  into  the  hills  again.  For  hours 
at  a  time  they  would  hold  a  glass  on  the  house  on 
Webster  Creek.  Life  there  became  as  familiar  as  if 
they  were  on  the  spot.  They  counted  eight  men; 
Buck  and  seven  others.  Their  features  were  not 
recognizable,  but  the  big  fellow's  size  marked  him. 
No  one  worked.  In  the  heat  of  midday  the  Double  A 
riders  rarely  caught  sight  of  any  of  them. 

Morrow  met  his  men  one  morning.  He  had  no 
news.  He  had  heard  that  one  or  two  of  the  Basques 
had  packed  up  their  belongings  and  moved  on.  Cash 
made  light  of  it.  The  fight  was  over! 

He  was  right,  apparently.  Blaze  had  supposed 
Bodine  would  kick  back  once  or  twice  before  giving 
up ;  but  four  days  had  gone  by,  and  he  had  not  stirred 
from  his  retreat. 

The  following  morning,  however,  there  were  signs  of 
life  at  the  Webster  ranch.  Shortly  after  daylight 
Buck  and  his  men  were  in  the  saddle,  and  by  noon 
they  had  rounded  up  their  stock,  now  about  three 
hundred  head.  An  hour  later  they  were  in  motion, 
pointed  for  Winnemucca. 

196 


WHISPERING  SAGE  197 

"They  're  headin'  for  the  railroad,  sure  as  you  're 
born,"  Melody  called  to  Blaze. 

"We  can  see  them  from  here  for  an  hour  or  more. 
When  they  reach  the  river,  I  'm  going  to  hike  down 
there. " 

"You  ain't  got  no  call  to  do  that,  have  yuh?" 

"As  far  as  Acklin  goes,  no.  But  I  'm  going  to  keep 
my  eyes  on  this  bunch." 

Melody  studied  his  friend's  face  before  he  spoke 
again. 

"Every  once  in  a  while  you  pull  a  mysterious  crack 
like  that,"  he  finally  said.  "What  you  got  up  your 
sleeve?" 

Blaze  looked  at  him  over  the  cigarette  he  was  rolling. 

"It  goes  back  a  long  ways,  old-timer.  Some  day 
maybe  you  '11  find  out."  Kildare  got  to  his  feet. 
"But  I  ain't  got  any  intention  of  lugging  you  into 
trouble.  This  is  my  own  little  affair.  I  '11  wait  here, 
and  you  can  drift  back  to  the  Bull's  Head." 

"You  make  me  sick,"  the  red-haired  one  answered 
savagely. 

Kildare 's  heart  warmed  to  Melody.  He  understood 
the  other's  fit  of  sullenness. 

' '  I  don 't  want  to  cheat  you  out  of  anythin ', ' '  Blaze 
murmured  in  his  drawling  manner.  * c  Come  on  along, 
if  you  feel  that  way  about  it." 

Their  proposed  plan  received  a  jolt  as  they  saw 
Bodine  and  his  men  separate  at  the  river.  Three  of 
them  headed  back  for  the  Webster.  The  distance  was 
so  great  that  Blaze  could  not  tell  whether  Buck  was 
among  those  who  had  gone  on  or  not. 


198  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"One  of  us  has  got  to  stay  here  now,  Melody.  You 
wait;  I'll  go." 

By  hard  riding  over  a  roundabout  course,  Kildare 
trailed  the  moving  herd  into  town.  Bodine  and  the 
bandy-legged  man  were  not  among  those  present. 
The  steers  were  loaded  the  next  morning,  and  the  six 
riders  who  had  brought  them  in  immediately  returned 
to  the  Webster. 

Evening  found  Blaze  and  Melody  in  their  old  nest 
above  Bodine 's  ranch. 

"Looks  like  a  get-away  to  me,"  Kildare  told  the 
poet.  "I  'd  stake  my  reputation  two  thirds  of  that 
herd  were  Double  A  steers.  We  ought  to  see  some- 
thing doing  in  the  morning." 

The  return  of  Buck's  men  from  Winnemucca 
brought  things  to  a  head  as  Kildare  had  prophesied. 
Shorty  was  for  leaving  at  once. 

"Let 's  pull  our  freight,"  he  argued.  "Acklin 
slipped  it  over  all  right.  But  the  laugh  ain't  all  his. 
We  got  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  of  his  yearlin's. 
That 's  the  booby-prize,  maybe,  but  it  's  somethin  V 

Gloomy  began  to  acquiesce. 

"They  ain't  nothin'  stirrin'  here,"  he  asserted. 

Bodine  got  to  his  feet  at  this.  Every  argument 
within  his  mental  limits  had  been  weighed  many  times. 
He  surveyed  his  men  calculatingly. 

"If  any  of  you  want  to  drift,  go!"  He  was  still 
the  master.  "But  I  ain't  playin'  this  thing  for  two 
or  three  months  and  kissin'  it  good-by  for  the  small 
change  we  got  from  that  handful  of  steers.  Not  me ! 
I  stick!  Gloomy  is  right ;  there  ain't  nothin'  stirrin*. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  199 

Well,  I  aim  to  get  somethin'  started.  Now  who  wants 
to  go?" 

Only  Shorty  remained  rebellious. 

"This  has  been  a  bad  lay  from  the  start/'  he 
growled.  "There  's  somethin'  wrong  here.  I  got  it 
in  my  bones.  When  it  comes,  don't  you  forget  that 
I  told  you." 

His  croaking  enraged  Buck. 

"Give  me  ten  days,"  he  cried,  "and  I  '11  show  you 
where  we  get  off.  I  '11  have  Acklin  and  these  boscos 
tearin'  each  other's  hearts  out." 

' '  My  Gawd !  We  ain  't  goin '  to  throw  in  with  these 
greasers,  are  we?"  Shorty  demanded. 

' '  We  '11  play  'em  against  each  other.  When  Acklin 
begins  to  find  a  stray  steer  plugged  in  the  lungs,  he  '11 
jump  at  these  Basques.  We  '11  play  it  so  strong  he  '11 
just  have  to  strike  back.  And  when  he  does  we  '11  help 
him.  Them  birds  in  the  valley  will  fight  in  a  pinch. 
We  '11  switch  about  that  time.  We  're  goin'  to  be 
with  the  side  that  wins.  When  Acklin 's  licked,  we  '11 
be  out  on  top." 

Little  Nez  Perce  Bill  smiled  his  admiration  at 
Buck's  keenness.  The  half-breed  had  followed  him 
for  years  because  of  this  very  quality.  It  impressed 
the  other  men. 

"You  two,"  Buck  went  on,  addressing  Shorty  and 
Gloomy,  "are  so  strong  for  excitement;  suppose  you 
head  for  town  to-night  and  circle  back  after  it  gets 
dark.  Strike  into  the  hills  west  of  here ;  Morrow  may 
have  his  eye  on  us.  Bump  off  a  few  of  Acklin 's  cattle. 
Work  east  to-morrow  night.  That  11  throw  them  off 


200  WHISPERING  SAGE 

your  trail.  It  '11  look  like  the  Basques  had  a  finger 
in  it.  Get  to  the  north  before  morning.  You  '11  find 
a  lot  of  places  to  hole-up  in  for  a  day  or  two.  Once 
you  pass  Hog  John 's,  lay  out  as  long  as  it  seems  safe ; 
three  days  if  you  can  make  it.  Beat  it  here  then, 
quick  as  God  11  let  you,  and  pump  all  the  lead  you 
want  to  as  you  come." 

Blaze  and  Melody  saw  them  leave.  But  night  fell, 
and  in  the  darkness  they  swung  back  and  up  by  the 
way  of  Kings  River.  In  twenty-four  hours  word  of 
the  red  trail  they  had  left  reached  the  Bull's  Head. 
Cash  and  his  riders  combed  the  wide  valleys  and 
narrow  canons.  But  Bodine's  men  were  safe  in  the 
very  heart  of  Acklin's  empire. 

A  guard  was  placed  against  a  repetition  of  the 
slaughter.  Guerrilla  warfare  was  something  Cash 
understood.  A  talk  with  Kildare  revealed  that  the 
foreman  blamed  the  raid  on  the  Basques. 

' '  Let  them  try  it  again, ' '  he  smiled  wisely.  '  *  We  '11 
find  a  way  to  strike  back." 

After  two  nights  of  quiet,  Acklin  relaxed.  He  put 
the  incident  down  for  a  sporadic  attack,  a  sort  of 
dying  blow.  But  the  next  night  Gloomy  and  Shorty 
dashed  down  from  their  hiding-place,  leaving  a  gory 
track  to  mark  the  way  by  which  they  had  come.  Be- 
low the  peak  they  turned  west,  and  threaded  their  way 
into  the  valley  of  the  Kings.  There  they  slept  and 
ate.  Twelve  hours  later  they  were  safe  on  Webster 
Creek. 

Bodine  could  not  repress  his  elation  as  he  waited 
for  them.  He  and  Nez  Perce  had  defied  Esteban's 


WHISPERING  SAGE  201 

order  and  ridden  to  Paradise.  They  had  heard  a 
great  deal.  By  ten  o'clock  they  were  back  on  the 
ranch.  Bodine  could  not  sleep.  He  paced  up  and 
down  the  path  in  front  of  the  house  for  more  than 
an  hour  before  his  two  men  arrived.  He  greeted  them 
vociferously. 

"Boys,  we  got  'em!  The  Basques  found  a  notice 
nailed  on  the  door  of  the  wool-house  in  Paradise  about 
eight  o  'clock  this  evening.  Some  of  Acklin  's  men  put 
it  there.  It  says  if  any  more  Double  A  steers  are 
found  shot  there  '11  be  reprisals ;  they  '11  hit  back. 
You  must  'a'  got  a  bunch  of  them.  The  Basques  are 
askin'  each  other  who  killed  this  bunch  of  Double  A 
critters.  Every  man-jack  of  them  suspects  his  neigh- 
bor and  is  tickled  silly.  Anything  to  get  Acklin. 
You  boys  turn  in.  The  rest  of  us  will  tend  to  this  job 
for  to-night." 

"What  's  on  now?"  Gloomy  inquired.  "He  won't 
have  any  cattle  left  if  we  keep  this  up." 

"That  's  ended."  Buck  began  to  smile  again. 
"That  warehouse  is  owned  on  shares  by  the  Basques. 
Every  one  of  them  is  interested  in  it.  Thirty  or  so 
have  this  year's  clipping  there  right  now.  We  're 
goin'  to  touch  it  off.  That  '11  hit  every  one  of  them 
in  the  well-known  pocket-book." 

Nez  Perce  laughed.  "He  's  hoppin'  round  on  one 
leg  now,  those  Basque.  When  we  get  done,  he  won't 
have  no  place  to  put  even  heem." 

An  hour  from  the  time  the  half-breed  had  emptied 
a  bottle  of  kerosene  over  some  refuse  and  lighted  it, 
the  big  wooden  building  was  in  ruins. 


202  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  Bodine  asked  repeatedly, 
when  his  men  brought  him  word  the  following  day 
that  the  Basques  had  made  a  raid  on  the  Double  A 
in  retaliation  for  the  burning  of  the  wool-house.  He 
shouted  with  glee.  The  success  of  his  plans  caused 
him  to  take  a  delight  in  holding  Shorty 's  forebodings 
up  to  ridicule. 

"Hain't  it  comin'  out  just  like  I  said?  Wait  till 
we  give  their  tail  another  twist." 

The  wantonly  cruel  move  Bodine  had  in  mind  was 
dramatic  enough  to  shock  a  more  conservative  imagi- 
nation than  his  audience  possessed.  The  third  morn- 
ing after  the  fire  he  made  the  attempt. 

A  spur  of  the  Santa  Rosas  separated  Paradise  Val- 
ley from  the  country  that  sloped  to  Quinn  River.  Old 
man  Liotard,  an  octogenarian,  grazed  his  sheep  in  its 
draws  and  on  the  flat  mesa  that  skirted  the  rim  of 
the  valley  opposite  the  Timbered  Buttes. 

Liotard  occupied  a  shack  that  stood  where  the  mesa 
came  to  a  neck  in  front  of  the  granite  outcroppings 
that  rose  to  high  peaks. 

The  mesa  and  the  tiny  valleys  beyond  were  only 
accessible  by  means  of  this  narrow  bit  of  land.  The 
old  man  could  look  across  the  chasm  that  separated 
his  aery  from  the  buttes,  but  the  getting  there  was 
quite  a  different  matter.  It  was  a  sheer  fall  of  eight 
hundred  feet  from  the  eastern  rim  of  the  mesa  to 
Bodine 's  ranch  below.  Above  the  shack  there  were 
large  pockets  in  the  rocks  in  which  the  snow  water 
stored  itself.  It  was  a  sheep-man's  paradise. 

Bodine  knew  that  men  like  Liotard  were  looked  up 


WHISPERING  SAGE  203 

to  as  the  heads  of  their  clans.  They  were  uncle, 
cousin,  or  grandfather  to  countless  numbers  of  the 
Basques  in  the  valley.  Marriage  tripled  and  quad- 
rupled the  number.  A  blow  at  Liotard  would  hurt  a 
hundred  kinsmen. 

Urging  their  horses  cautiously  up  the  tortuous  trail 
that  led  to  the  shack,  Shorty  and  he  arrived  within 
sight  of  the  place  before  dawn.  There  they  waited. 

Minutes  rolled  by  before  the  old  man  came  out, 
a  moth-eaten  dog  at  his  side.  Out  of  a  lean-to  built 
against  his  shack  he  led  a  burro  that  seemed  as  old 
as  its  master. 

Buck  smiled  as  he  watched  the  grotesque  turn- 
out move  away  on  its  daily  tour  of  the  range.  When 
lie  judged  it  safe,  Shorty  and  he  rode  up  to  the 
•cabin,  where  Shorty  produced  their  morning's  meal. 

About  seven  o'clock  Kildare,  from  a  perch  across 
the  canon  where  he  watched  the  house  on  Webster 
Creek,  caught  sight  of  the  milling  sheep  as  Liotard 
drove  them  from  the  water-pockets  in  the  rocks. 
Blaze  had  become  familiar  with  the  old  herder's 
movements;  but  he  had  not  seen  him  leave  his  cabin 
this  morning.  And  yet  there  were  his  sheep  according 
to  custom. 

When  the  animals  settled  to  grazing,  they  began 
moving  directly  toward  the  cabin.  Noon-time  always 
found  them  headed  back  to  the  higher  ground.  There 
were  close  to  a  thousand  head  in  the  herd;  fine  big 
merinos.  Blaze  laughed  as  he  watched  through  his 
glasses  the  play  of  the  big  rams ;  but  his  smile  deserted 
him  as  he  saw  two  horsemen  dash  around  the  cabin 


204  WHISPERING  SAGE 

to  the  center  of  the  herd.  The  sheep  were  in  a  panic 
almost  instantly. 

The  men  yelled  and  swung  their  ropes  over  them 
until  the  poor  animals  lost  all  sense  of  direction.  A 
few  broke  for  the  east.  The  two  men  quickly  whip- 
sawed  a  score  more  into  following  them. 

Shooting  and  hallooing,  the  riders  urged  the  sheep 
on,  until  they  sped  before  the  prancing  horses. 
Another  minute,  and  they  were  hurtling  through 
space  to  the  jagged  rocks  hundreds  of  feet  below. 
Thirty,  forty — Blaze  turned  away  sick.  An  Indian 
could  not  have  conceived  anything  more  savage. 

So  far  Kildare  had  caught  only  the  backs  of  the  two 
men;  but  as  they  began  to  cross  the  mesa,  he  knew 
they  must  come  down  by  the  trail  that  led  to  the 
cabin.  Blaze  moved  to  where  his  rifle  commanded 
the  road. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  Five  minutes,  and  the 
horsemen  hove  into  view.  Bodine  was  in  front.  The 
impulse  to  drop  him  out  of  his  saddle  was  strong ;  but 
the  thrill  Blaze  received  when  he  recognized  the  man 
was  as  nothing  compared  to  the  start  he  experienced 
when  Buck's  companion  turned  his  face  squarely  at 
Kildare. 

The  cow-boy  sank  back  into  his  cover,  his  rifle 
dropping  to  his  side.  A  grim,  sagacious  smile  hard- 
ened his  face;  into  his  eyes  came  a  flash  of  satis- 
faction. 

From  his  pocket  he  took  the  picture  he  had  shown 
Melody.  It  was  Shorty's  photograph. 

"Gee,  Kid!"  he  breathed  aloud,  "I  'm  going  to* 
keep  my  word  with  you." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

LIOTARD  was  hours  getting  down  to  the  valley 
with  his  story.  Kildare  had  left  for  the  Bull's 
Head  long  before  the  old  man  went  by.  It  was  a 
grim  twist  of  fate  that  sent  the  sheep-man  to  Bodine  's 
first  with  his  tale  of  grief.  Buck's  sense  of  humor 
was  equal  to  the  occasion,  however. 

"They  were  fat,  Senor;  the  wool  that  long." 
There  were  tears  in  Liotard's  eyes.  "My  beautiful 
sheep;  they  are  all  Mil." 

"Wait  till  the  folks  down  below  hear  about  this," 
the  big  fellow  roared,  in  a  fine  .show  of  anger.  I  11 
go  with  you  right  now." 

Thus  the  two  of  them  burst  upon  the  quiet  town 
in  mid-afternoon.  Bad  news  travels  fast,  and  their 
story  was  soon  common  property.  Buck's  violent 
indignation  and  old  Liotard  's  repeated  turning  to  him 
for  confirmation  of  his  loss  began  to  have  its  effect  on 
the  Basques.  Even  Esteban  met  him  without  any 
open  show  of  hostility. 

A  little  thing  in  itself,  but  one  from  which  Buck 
took  a  great  deal  of  comfort,  was  the  fact  that  Kent 
had  gone  back  to  Winnemucca.  By  evening  the 
temper  of  the  crowd  in  town  was  at  white  heat.  An 
hour  from  now  Bodine  knew  they  would  be  cooling 
down.  The  abuse  he  had  heaped  on  Acklin,  added 

205 


206  WHISPERING  SAGE 

to  their  own  bitter  hatred  of  the  man,  had  brought 
the  big  fellow's  plans  to  a  climax.  If  he  were  to 
profit  by  them,  he  had  to  risk  tossing  the  dice  now. 

He  was  in  Benavides's  bar  surrounded  by  a  small 
group  that  he  held  charmed  with  his  vitriolic 
eloquence.  To  his  listeners  Buck  seemed  concerned 
only  with  them;  but  One-eyed  Manuel  and  he  had 
never  for  a  second  relaxed  their  furtive  watch  of  each 
other.  The  bartender  moved  away  to  serve  new  cus- 
tomers near  the  door.  Bodine  recognized  Esteban 
among  the  men  who  had  just  come  in.  He  walked 
over  to  where  the  boy  was  draining  his  glass. 

"Say,  I  hope  you  ain't  tankin'  up  at  a  time  like 
this,"  he  began.  "These  folks  are  dependin'  on  you 
to  do  somethin'  for  them." 

It  was  an  adroit  attack.  It  stilled  some  of  the 
resentment  Buck's  words  aroused. 

"I  won't  be  asking  any  advice  of  you." 

"And  I  won't  be  givin'  any,  either."  Bodine  was 
at  his  best.  "I  ain't  forgettin'  that  you  told  me  once 
you  'd  take  care  of  Acklin  by  yourself.  Well, 
nothin  's  happened  yet.  You  folks  kill  one  of  his 
cows,  and  he  burns  down  your  warehouse.  You  hit 
back,  and  he  drives  your  sheep  over  the  cliffs. 
You  11  grow  fat  on  that  kind  of  stuff,  won't  you?" 

The  murmur  Behind  him  was  encouragement 
enough  to  make  Buck  go  on. 

"There  's  only  pne  thing  to  do.  It  '11  give  the 
Big  Boss  such  a  jolt  he  '11  never  get  over  it.  "But 
it  11  take  sand  and  nerve." 

Bodine  could  feel  the  curiosity  arising  in  the  boy. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  207 

"But  as  I  said,  I  ain't  givin'  advice  where  it  ain't 
wanted.  I  'm  goin'  home  now.  "When  I  get  to  the 
cottonwoods  "by  the  bridge,  I  '11  wait  five  minutes.  If 
you  want  to  hear  what  I  've  got  to  say,  you  meet  me 
there." 

He  was  too  good  an  actor  to  wait  for  his  applause. 
Only  at  the  door  did  he  turn  to  add: 

* '  Don 't  bother  if  you  don 't  mean  business !  If  yon 
do,  come  alone." 

It  was  n  't  necessary  for  Buck  to  look  at  his  watch. 
He  had  barely  arrived  in  the  shade  of  the  trees  when, 
he  saw  Esteban  come  out  and  get  on  his  horse. 

"Make  it  quick,"  the  boy  snapped  when  he  drew 
rein  beside  him. 

"That  suits  me.  But  if  you  don't  like  what  I  'm 
going'  to  say,  it  stops  right  here.  You  get  that 
right,  too." 

"Go  ahead!" 

"Well,  then,  let 's  forget  this  game  of  bushwackin'. 
I  been  doin'  a  little  scoutin'  on  my  own  around  the 
dam.  You  can 't  get  near  it  from  the  south.  Acklin  's 
men  are  there  night  and  day.  The  old  wire  fence 
doesn't  count  any  more.  They  've  moved  their 
cattle  back  into  the  hills.  Five  men  can  guard  the 
dam  easier  than  twenty  could  ride  that  old  line.  You 
know  how  the  country  narrows  up  there." 

Esteban  nodded  his  head.  Bodine  had  told  him 
nothing  he  did  not  know  himself.  He  continued  to 
sit  motionless  as  Buck  went  on. 

"Lookin'  round,  I  found  a  way  to  get  by  these 
Double  A  waddies.  Get  into  the  Bangs  first ;  follow 


208  WHISPERING  SAGE 

the  creek  north,  say  five  miles  beyond  where  that 
little  branch  cuts  in  from  the  west.  You  '11  see  old 
Bengoa  's  ranch,  but  keep  east  of  that,  by  'm  by  you  '11 
come  to  a  little  park  of  birches.  You  can't  miss  the 
trail  east.  It  heads  to  the  north  in  a  little  while. 
Disaster  Peak  will  be  right  in  front  of  you.  "When 
you  get  there,  pick  up  a  creek ;  any  one ;  they  're  all 
flowin'  to  the  Martin.  Coal  Creek  is  the  nearest.  It 
hain't  over  five  miles  from  there  down  to  the  head  of 
the  water  Acklin  's  backed  up.  His  lake  's  near  full 
already/' 

"And  if  we  get  there,  then  what?" 

"There  won't  be  any  if  about  it.  We  '11  get  there. 
And  when  we  do,  we  '11  blow  his  dam  out  so  pretty 
he  '11  be  the  rest  of  his  life  squaring  the  damage- 
suits." 

Blowing  up  the  dam  had  occurred  to  the  boy,  too; 
but  he  had  found  how  impossible  it  was  to  get  near 
the  wall.  Bodine's  plan  was  still  a  closed  book  to  the 
young  Basque. 

"How  are  you  going  to  get  down  to  the  wall  from 
there  ? "  he  asked.  '  *  You  won 't  be  any  better  off  than 
trying  it  from  this  end." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  will!  We  won't  even  try  to  get  near 

the  wall.  "Say "  Bodine's  voice  dropped  to  a 

whisper.  "If  I  show  you  how,  will  you  go  through 
with  this?  I  tell  you  we  can't  lose." 

Esteban  did  not  reply  at  once.  Although  the 
future  seemed  hopeless  and  the  machinations  of 
Acklin  had  made  him  desperate,  he  hung  back  from 


WHISPERING  SAGE  209 

making  an  alliance  with  Bodine.  As  he  had  said,  he 
was  not  forgetting  the  past. 

"I  won't  pass  you  my  word  on  air,"  he  answered 
at  last.  He  shook  his  head.  "I  won't  do  it,  Bodine. 
You  know  why.  I  '11  do  most  anything  to  beat  Ack- 
lin;  he  's  made  a  beggar  of  me.  It  's  different  with 
you.  He  has  n  't  taken  anything  away  from  you  but 
a  gambling  chance  that  you  walked  into  with  your 
eyes  open.  I  'm  trying  to  get  my  own;  you  're  try- 
ing to  get  something  for  nothing.  What  you  think 
about  that  won't  change  my  opinion. " 

Buck  swallowed  a  grin. 

"How  do  I  know  but  you  '11  leave  me  holding  the 
bag?"  Esteban  demanded. 

"How  do  you  know?"  the  big  fellow  repeated. 
"Why,  I  aim  to  be  right  there  with  you  when  this 
thing  's  pulled  off.  We  '11  only  want  one  more  man ; 
Romero  '11  do." 

"Well,  you  can  take  me  on  faith,  or  forget  it." 
The  boy  was  still  cautious.  "I  won't  pass  my  word 
until  I  know  what  I  'm  promising." 

"I  '11  go  you  on  that."  Bodine  was  not  standing 
on  ceremony.  "You  get  the  dynamite.  Acklin  would 
spot  me  afterward  if  I  bought  it.  You  hain't  got 
any  on  hand,  have  you?" 

"Six  cases  or  so.  My  father  was  getting  ready  to 
use  it  this  fall,"  Esteban  answered  after  searching 
his  companion's  face. 

"That's  great,"  Buck  shouted  enthusiastically. 
"It 's  more  than  we  '11  need.  I  11  build  a  bomb 


210  WHISPERING  SAGE 

that  '11  tear  a  hole  in  that  wall  big  enough  to  put 
an  elephant  through.  "We  '11  sneak  the  powder,  and 
the  other  stuff  we  '11  want,  up  the  way  I  said.  We  '11 
make  a  raft — there  's  lots  of  cedars  up  there — and 
put  our  little  old  mine  on  it.  The  wind  drives  down 
that  canon  every  night.  It  don't  vary  five  minutes. 
All  we  '11  have  to  do  is  push  her  off  and  she  '11  hit 
the  dam.  I  timed  a  log  one  night.  I  '11  fix  the  fuse 
so  we  '11  be  sure,  and  just  to  be  certain  of  it,  we  '11 
-cover  the  raft  with  oil.  If  it  happens  to  drift  down 
quicker  than  I  figure,  the  fuse  will  set  the  damn 
thing  afire  and  blow  up  the  works  anyhow." 

Esteban's  eyes  were  the  only  answer  Buck  needed. 
He  knew  he  had  won  before  he  asked: 

"Well,  what  do  you  say  now?" 

The  boy  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 
His  voice  faltered  as  he  spoke. 

"Al-1 — all  right."  To  himself  he  murmured  an 
audible  "Madre  de  Dios."  There  was  admiration 
for  Bodine  in  his  blasphemy.  "When  do  we  try  it?" 
he  anxiously  demanded  in  the  next  breath. 

"I  'm  ready  now."  Buck  was  not  taking  any 
chances  on  time. 

"To-morrow  night  then,"  Esteban  compromised. 
"I  '11  be  at  your  place  by  noon.  Why  not  go  straight 
north  through  the  buttes?  We  can  make  it  by  way 
of  the  hills  in  two  hours.  What  do  you  say?" 

"It  's  a  terrible  chance.  Morrow  will  have  his 
riders  in  the  buttes." 

"I  '11  draw  them  away."  There  was  a  note  of 
sureness  in  the  boy's  voice  as  he  went  on.  "I  '11  send 


WHISPERING  SAGE  211 

a  dozen  men  up  that  trail  across  the  peak  to-night. 
They  '11  make  so  much  noise  Morrow  will  have  his 
men  camping  there  to-morrow  evening.  We  '11  go 
through  in  back  of  them." 

This  was  unexpected  cleverness  of  a  sort  Buck  could 
appreciate. 

"Gosh!  That  's  smart,"  he  murmured.  "You  be 
on  time  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

IT  was  not  quite  ten  o'clock  the  following  morning 
when  Kildare  walked  My  Man  to  the  top  of  the  rise 
from  which  he  had  taken  his  first  look  at  Paradise 
Valley.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  Bull's  Head  from 
Winnemucca.  He  had  taken  his  long  deferred  day 
off  to  attend  to  what  he  had  told  Morrow  was  personal 
business.  The  roundabout  route  by  which  he  was 
returning  was  due  to  a  promise  given  the  foreman. 

Blaze  had  kept  to  himself  his  knowledge  of  Bodine's 
part  in  the  war  of  reprisals  that  was  being  waged. 
He  had  no  intention  of  letting  the  Double  A  frighten 
Shorty  out  of  the  country.  He  had  waited  too  long  for 
that ;  and  when  the  time  was  propitious  he  planned  to 
settle  the  issue  between  them  strictly  by  himself.  But 
as  he  swept  his  eyes  over  the  desolation  that  marked 
the  once  prosperous  Buena  Vista,  he  knew  that  he 
could  not  pass  by  without  attempting  to  see  the  girl 
who  had  haunted  him  from  the  time  he  had  first  met 
her. 

Three  long  weeks  had  elapsed  since  he  had  spoken 
to  her  last.  But,  as  though  it  had  been  yesterday,  he 
remembered  the  curve  of  her  lips  and  the  sadness  of 
her  eyes.  He  could  guess  what  the  past  weeks  must 
have  been  to  her.  That  old  desire  to  take  her  load  on 
his  shoulders  took  possession  of  him  again.  It  was  n't 

212 


WHISPERING  SAGE  213 

to  be,  apparently,  and  yet  as  he  remembered  Shorty 
he  wondered  if  the  future  might  not  point  a  way. 

Blaze  had  heard  nothing  of  Esteban ;  but  unless  the 
boy  had  changed  greatly,  he  could  imagine  the  pitch 
to  which  he  must  be  aroused  if  he  had  been  deceived 
into  believing  that  Acklin  had  fired  their  wool  and 
killed  Liotard's  sheep.  As  he  sent  My  Man  toward 
the  hacienda,  he  resolved  to  try  to  tell  the  boy  the 
truth,  or  at  least  part  of  it. 

The  sound  of  a  crying  child  caught  his  ears  as  he 
rode  by  the  open  door  of  the  barn.  He  stopped  and 
called,  and  Basilio  came  out,  rubbing  his  face  with 
his  sleeve. 

"What  's  the  matter,  little  chief?''  he  called  so- 
licitously. 

The  boy  turned  his  sightless  eyes  up  at  him.  In 
spite  of  his  grief  and  the  concern  in  Kildare's  voice, 
he  recognized  the  man. 

"Come  here  to  me/'  Blaze  coaxed,  as  he  held  down 
his  hand  for  the  child.  In  a  twinkling  Basilio  was 
in  his  arms.  "Come  on  now,  what  're  all  those  big 
tears  about?" 

"Esteban  has  gone  to  Uncle  Peter's,"  the  little  tot 
sobbed,  "and  he  wouldn't  let  me  go  along.  He 
would — would — wouldn't  take  me." 

"Don't  you  mind,"  Blaze  consoled  him.  "It  's  a 
long,  hot  ride,  and  Uncle  Peter  will  just  about  be 
busy  with  the  haying,  so  don't  you  cry,  little  chief. 
The  water  in  the  Kings  is  so  low  you  couldn't  do 
any  fishin'  nohow." 

This  last  statement  carried  weight  with  Basilio. 


214  WHISPERING  SAGE 

By  the  time  Blaze  had  turned  My  Man  into  the  patio 
gate,  the  child  had  recovered  his  smile. 

Mercedes  had  been  aware  of  Kildare's  advent  for 
five  minutes  or  more  before  Blaze  dismounted.  A 
warm  glow  of  happiness  enveloped  her  as  she  saw 
him  approach.  Grief,  and  the  brooding  misery  of 
weeks,  left  her  immediately.  Yet  she  held  back  and 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  meeting  him.  Nervous 
fingers  performed  miracles  with  her  beautiful  hair. 
Maidenly  modesty  bade  her  lower  her  eyes,  but  a  flash 
of  the  carefree  tomboy  came  back  to  her  as  she  darted 
a  quick  glance  into  her  mirror.  There  was  color  in 
her  cheeks  for  the  first  time  in  many  days ;  a  sparkle 
in  her  eyes. 

Blaze,  with  Basilio  in  his  arms,  reached  the  veranda 
as  she  came  out.  Language  is  useless  to  convey  what 
they  read  in  each  other's  eyes.  Hat  in  hand,  he  stood 
before  her  silent.  A  word  would  have  broken  the 
spell  the  morning  cast  over  them. 

Kildare  saw  that  she  was  thinner.  A  new  wistful- 
ness  had  crept  into  her  finely  carved  face.  Nor  did 
her  smile  conceal  from  him  the  pensiveness  behind 
her  glowing  eyes. 

Basilio 's  demand  to  be  let  down  brought  back  to 
Blaze  a  realization  of  why  he  was  there.  He  began  to 
say  something,  but  as  Mercedes  put  out  her  hand  and 
his  fingers  closed  over  it  he  became  speechless  again. 

Even  the  embarrassment  of  this  man  was  precious 
to  her.  She  caught  the  sound  of  the  smothered  breath 
unwillingly  forced  from  him  as  he  fought  to  repress 
the  emotion  her  slight  return  of  the  pressure  of  his 


WHISPERING  SAGE  215 

own  fingers  caused  him.  What  mattered  it  that  the 
last  time  they  had  been  together  she  had  humbled 
him?  Youth  forgets  quickly. 

.  The  miraculous  flight  of  thought  blinds  with  its 
swiftness.  Mercedes  found  herself  viewing  these  last 
few  seconds  as  from  a  distance.  She  knew  she  had 
forgotten  the  workaday  world  with  its  unhappiness: 
Acklin,  Bodine,  never  existed;  the  hacienda  drowsed 
in  contentment  and  prosperity.  Why  did  she  have 
to  remember?  Why  couldn't  she  go  soaring  on  for- 
ever in  that  magic  land  of  romance  where  all  was 
happiness  and  kindness  and  love? 

What  a  risk  he  had  taken  in  coming  here !  She  had 
seen  the  temper  of  her  people  rising  after  each  fresh 
outrage,  until  Mercedes  knew  that  Kildare  would  for- 
feit his  life  if  he  were  caught.  Not  that  her  brother 
would  strike  him  down ;  but  those  others,  who  had  no 
knowledge  of  the  man  and  who  saw  in  him  only  one 
of  Acklin 's  men-at-arms.  Thought  of  his  danger  sent 
her  throat  dry. 

"Oh,  Senor,  you  do  not  know  what  you  do  when 
you  come  here  like  this." 

Blaze  nodded  his  head  ever  so  slightly.  The  risk 
was  worth  it. 

'  '  Men  like  Ortega  or  Ugarde  will  kill  you  on  sight. ' ' 

A  sudden  impulse  made  Blaze  lean  toward  her. 

* '  I  wonder  if  you  'd  care  very  much  if  they  did  get 

net" 

He  had  won  from  her  the  confidence  a  woman 
usually  gives  only  to  one  man;  but  true  to  her  sex, 
the  thought  of  being  forced  into  the  open  filled  her 


216  WHISPERING  SAGE 

with  alarm.  And  because  in  such  matters  women  are 
so  much  more  the  masters  of  themselves  than  men, 
she  answered  Blaze  with  a  tantalizing  laugh  that  car- 
ried him  back  to  that  day  up  the  river,  when  she  had 
awakened  emotions  long  dead  in  him. 

To  atone  for  the  confusion  she  caused  him,  she 
added: 

"Of  course  I  would  care.  You  have  been  kind  to 
me.  I  told  you  once  I  would  speak  true  words  to 
you.  But  why  do  you  come?" 

"I  Ve  been  into  town — Winnemucca;  some  things 
I  had  to  look  after  for  myself.  I  kept  clear  of  the 
valley,  but  when  I  looked  down  from  those  hills  below 
the  river  and  saw  how  near  I  was  to  the  hacienda,  I 
had  to  risk  coming.  I  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with 
Esteban.  Basilio  tells  me  he  has  gone  to  Kings 
River." 

"As  far  as  that?"  A  note  of  anxiety  crept  into 
her  voice.  "He  left  without  telling  me  where  he  was 
going." 

"He  wouldn't  take  me,"  the  little  fellow  chirped 
up.  "He  said  it  was  too  dangerous." 

'  *  Dangerous  ? ' '  Both  Mercedes  and  Blaze  asked  the 
question. 

Basilio  repeated  his  words.  The  same  thought 
flashed  into  the  minds  of  both. 

If  any  danger  was  attached  to  Esteban 's  trip,  it 
could  only  be  because  he  was  taking  a  short  cut  across 
the  Double  A  country  by  way  of  the  buttes. 

"He  ought  to  know  better  than  to  try  that,"  Blaze 


WHISPERING  SAGE  217 

said  with  a  shade  of  annoyance  at  the  boy's  foolhardi- 
ness.  ''Did  he  have  a  good  horse?" 

"He  took  the  blackboard  and  a  team." 

"Why,  you  can't  get  through  there  with  a  rig. 
I  Ve  been  over  every  foot  of  that  country."  He 
pointed  to  the  child,  and  tapped  his  lips  with  his 
finger  as  he  went  on.  "He  's  going  around  by  the 
crossing,  all  right.  There  's  three  or  four  hundred 
Indians  from  the  reservation  over  on  the  Kings  right 
now,  helping  with  the  haying.  I  guess  Esteban  was 
afraid  of  them." 

Mercedes  tried  to  reward  him  with  a  smile,  but  her 
misgivings  were  only  aroused  the  more  by  what  Blaze 
had  said.  Basilio  did  not  take  kindly  to  his  words 
either. 

' '  Injuns ! "  he  cried  sarcastically.  "  I  'm  not  afraid 
of  Injuns.  Teresa  is  an  Injun.  Wish  I  had  a  horse 
of  my  own." 

Having  relieved  himself  of  this  weighty  statement, 
the  little  chap  wandered  back  to  the  barn.  When  he 
was  out  of  hearing,  Mercedes  appealed  to  Kildare. 

"What  can  I  do?"  she  asked.  "That  is  not  Este- 
ban's  habit  to  go  away  these  days  without  telling  me 
where  he  is  going.  He  is  not  himself  any  longer.  The 
fire,  and  all  these  other  things " 

"I  understand,"  Blaze  responded.  "I  wanted  to 
talk  to  him  about  that."  He  paused  as  if  weighing 
his  words.  Then :  "  I  Ve  never  lied  to  you  yet,  Mer- 
cedes. ' '  He  had  not  addressed  her  quite  so  intimately 
before.  But  even  now,  in  his  earnestness,  he  was  not 


218  WHISPERING  SAGE 

aware  that  he  did  so.  "Will  you  take  my  word  for 
this?  The  Double  A  has  had  no  hand  in  these  re- 
prisals. ' ' 

Mercedes's  eyebrows  lifted  at  this  seeming  heresy. 

"I  saw  Liotard's  sheep  killed." 

11  You  saw  it,  and  did  nothing?" 

"There  was  nothing  I  could  do,"  Blaze  answered 
her.  "I  was  in  the  buttes  opposite  his  cabin,  but  it 
takes  hours  to  come  down  and  get  up  to  his  place. 
As  far  as  the  fire  goes,  I  know  there  was  n't  a  Double 
A  man  in  the  valley  that  time  of  night." 

"But  if  the  Double  A  is  not  to  blame,  who  is?" 

"Please,"  Kildare  entreated.  "I  'm  telling  you 
more  than  I  told  Acklin.  I  can't  go  any  further 
now. ' ' 

Mercedes  was  silent  in  the  face  of  his  amazing  state- 
ment. 

"What  you  say  is  hard  to  believe,"  she  murmured 
at  last.  "But  I  do  believe  you."  She  trustingly 
raised  her  eyes  to  his.  "I  am  not  to  be  blamed  if  I 
seem  hard  to  convince.  Senor  Acklin  has  crushed  the 
heart  of  my  people  with  his  scheming.  His  dam!" 
she  cried  scornfully.  "  It  is  a  monument  to  his  thiev- 
ing. He  is  big  and  strong,  and  he  makes  war  on  the 
weak  and  helpless.  You  know  what  I  say  is  true." 

Blaze  chose  neither  to  deny  or  affirm  her  state- 
ment. 

"At  least,"  he  said  instead,  "the  dam  was  a  blow 
to  Bodine's  plans.  It  sure  sat  him  down  with  a  dull 
thud.  But  he  isn't  through  yet.  You  tell  Esteban 
-what  I  Ve  said;  but  see  that  he  keeps  mum  about  it. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  219 

If  I  were  him,  I  M  stick  to  Kent.  He  's  got  vision 
enough  to  see  this  thing  through.  Anyway,  I  may 
get  in  touch  with  Esteban  soon." 

" Don't  risk  coming  again,  Seiior,"  she  begged,  her 
quick  concern  for  his  safety  immediately  over- 
shadowing all  thought  of  her  own  misery.  "  It  is  too 
dangerous.  Even  now  some  one  may  come  at  any 
moment.  I  know  it  is  best  you  go." 

Blaze  saw  her  lips  tremble.  The  urge  to  take  her 
in  his  arms  was  great. 

"You  11  go  round  by  the  river,  won't  you — 
please?"  she  implored  further.  "Don't  go  through 
the  valley." 

Kildare  turned  and  held  out  his  hand  to  My  Man ; 
otherwise  he  would  have  been  unable  to  stop  the 
words  that  were  on  his  tongue.  He  vaulted  into  his 
saddle  lightly;  Mercedes's  eyes  followed  him. 

"You  know,"  he  began,  more  at  ease  from  the 
safety  of  his  position,  "I  said  once  that  I  was  going 
to  see  this  thing  through.  And  I  'm  taking  good  care 
that  I  11  be  alive  to  do  it.  When  I  mentioned  Este- 
ban it  was  not  only  of  the  fight  that  I  was  thinking. 
Did  you  ever  see  that  before?"  He  held  out  the 
charm  Melody  had  found. 

No  trace  of  recognition  showed  in  Mercedes's  eyes. 

' 'The  man  who  owned  that, ' '  Blaze  went  on,  * ' mur- 
dered your  father." 

"You  mean,"  she  gasped,  "that  you  know  who 
did  itt" 

"I  'm  not  giving  him  a  name  yet,  but  I  will  before 
I  'm  through." 


220  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  bowed  her  head,  her  hand  against 
her  cheek.  Blaze  knew  the  memories  that  were 
flooding  her  mind.  His  voice  grew  husky  as  he  went 
on: 

"I  told  you  the  morning  we  found  your  father's 
body  that  I  would  stop  at  nothing  in  your  service. 
I  haven't  forgotten.  You  wonder,  I  know,  why  I 
stay  with  Acklin.  He  's  as  hard  and  unrelenting  as 
a  steel  trap;  a  throwback  from  thirty-five  years  ago 
when  the  big  cattle-men  were  all  like  him.  He  's  got 
an  evil  name — well  earned,  no  doubt — and  with  good 
reason,  in  that  I  am  in  his  employ,  you  find  it  hard 
not  to  suspect  me  at  times.  Yet  in  spite  of  that  I 
have  tried  to  be  a  real  friend  to  you.  Men  have  called 
this  valley  a  desert.  But  it  bloomed  once.  The  fields 
were  green ;  flowers  fought  for  your  favor  here  in  this 
patio.  Little  things  sometimes  are  able  to  win  great 
good  from  most  hopeless  clay.  If  you  ever  have  cause 
to  think  of  me,  remember  that.  You  know  nothing  of 
my  past,  and  my  talk  tells  you  little;  but  I  '11  be 
keeping  my  word  with  you.  Good-by ! ' ' 

They  shook  hands.  Blaze  saw  her  eyes  were  misty. 
My  Man  had  reached  the  gate  when  he  turned  for  a 
last  look  at  her.  She  was  leaning  against  a  pillar  of 
the  veranda.  He  saw  her  lips  tremble.  Sweet  and 
low,  her  words  reached  him. 

"Good-by,  .  .  .  Blaze!" 

Minutes  passed  as  she  stood  there.  Kildare  was 
long  out  of  sight  before  she  sank  into  a  chair,  her  eyes 
straining  at  the  distances  that  lay  beyond  the  Rebel, 
her  ears  dulled  to  ordinary  sound.  She  knew  Kildare 


WHISPERING  SAGE  221 

must  be  safe  in  the  lower  Santa  Rosa  hills  by  now. 
Thoughts  of  her  father  hovered  in  her  mind.  She 
wondered  why  she  found  Blaze  so  much  like  him. 

Suddenly  there  burst  upon  her  consciousness  the 
mad  gallop  of  a  horse.  Esteban  was  coming  back! 
She  felt  relieved.  She  became  alert,  her  senses  on 
edge  again.  The  pattering  hoofs  sounded  very  near; 
they  seemed  to  be  on  the  porch  itself.  Rising,  she 
hurried  round  the  corner  of  the  veranda  and  came 
upon  Basilio  beating  out  a  barbaric  rhythm  on  an 
abandoned  flower-tub.  In  lieu  of  drumsticks,  he  had 
possessed  himself  of  part  of  the  lid  of  a  box;  and, 
despite  sharp  nails,  the  little  tot  held  the  sticks  in  a 
vise-like  grasp. 

" Where  you  get  these  things?"  Mercedes  demanded 
as  she  stooped  down  to  take  them  away. 

"In  the  barn.  Don't  take  them  away,"  Basilio 
pleaded. 

"But,  wno,  they  are  covered  with  nails.    Feel!" 

As  she  held  out  one  of  the  sticks  to  him,  she  saw 
some  strange,  meaningless  marks  on  it.  Something 
had  been  stenciled  across  the  box  lid,  and  only  the 
lower  part  of  the  letters  had  been  printed  on  this 
particular  piece  of  board.  Curiosity  prompted  her 
to  put  the  two  pieces  together.  Her  heart  stopped 
as  she  read  the  words  they  made:  "Dynamite — 
Dangerous." 

Catching  up  her  skirts,  she  fled  to  the  barn. 
Scattered  about  on  the  floor  were  the  remains  of  half 
a  dozen  empty  boxes.  They  had  been  broken  open 
hurriedly  and  left  without  any  attempt  at  conceal- 


222  WHISPERING  SAGE 

ment.  Mercedes's  eyes  widened  in  horror  at  the 
screaming  letters  printed  on  their  sides  and  ends. 
Esteban's  going  now  explained  itself.  This  was  why 
he  had  not  taken  Basilio.  He  was  not  going  to  Kings 
River.  Uncle  Peter  had  dynamite  of  his  own  for  any 
need  he  might  find. 

Intuition  began  to  leap  ahead  of  the  facts  as  they 
discovered  themselves  to  her.  Kildare  had  been  right. 
Her  brother  was  not  going  into  the  hills  with  a  buck- 
board. 

She  followed  the  tracks  of  the  wheels  until  they 
turned  into  the  dim  road  that  led  to  the  northwest. 
That  way  did  not  lead  to  town,  or  to  the  crossing  into 
the  Kings.  It  went  to  Webster  Creek. 

Webster  Creek  .  .  .  Bodine! 

A  feeling  of  f aintness  crept  over  her  at  the  thought. 
Had  Esteban  made  an  alliance  with  that  man?  Had 
his  evil  genius  won  her  brother  into  some  desperate 
affair  that  needed  dynamite  for  its  accomplishment? 

Ten  torturing  minutes  of  worry  increased  her  nerv- 
ousness until  her  body  rebelled  at  inaction.  Whatever 
his  motive,  she  was  certain  that  Esteban  had  gone  to 
Bodine 's  ranch.  With  sudden  resolve,  she  determined 
to  follow  him.  A  word  to  Teresa  about  Basilio  and 
she  was  gone. 

It  took  her  more  than  two  hours  to  reach  the  Web- 
ster place.  No  one  met  her  as  she  rode  up.  She 
called  aloud  several  times  but  got  no  answer.  This, 
and  the  fact  that  she  had  trailed  the  buckboard  right 
to  the  ranch  yard,  only  increased  her  feeling  of  alarm. 

She  sat  down  to  wait.    Again  inaction  assailed  her 


WHISPERING  SAGE  223 

and  she  began  walking  up  and  down  the  path  that  led 
to  the  barns.  Bit  by  bit  she  increased  the  distance 
she  was  covering  in  her  excitement,  until  her  horse 
brought  her  to  the  doors  of  the  old  building.  Her 
breath  left  her  as  she  caught  sight  of  the  wagon 
Esteban  had  driven.  A  glance  showed  her  it  was 
empty. 

Through  an  open  door  in  the  rear  she  saw  her 
brother's  team  in  the  corral. 

Some  of  her  suspicions  became  certainties  now. 
Esteban  and  Bodine  were  not  enemies;  they  were 
striking  together.  He  had  ridden  away  on  one  of 
Bodine 's  horses.  The  dynamite  was  gone.  Evidently 
their  plans  were  coming  to  a  climax  immediately! 

Mercedes  scanned  the  ground  between  the  barn  and 
the  corrals,  trying  to  read  signs  in  the  dry  sand.  She 
came  upon  the  fresh  trail  of  three  horses  that  led  to 
the  north. 

The  girl  wondered  who  the  third  rider  was.  Her 
surmising  gave  her  no  clue.  That  it  was  not  Kent 
she  was  certain.  She  unconsciously  clenched  her 
teeth  at  the  memory  of  the  promise  Esteban  had  given 
him. 

A  quick  glance  at  the  sun  told  her  it  was  after 
three  o'clock.  She  hesitated  over  riding  direct  to  the 
pass  that  led  to  the  north,  unless  the  trail  of  the  three 
horsemen  took  her  there.  There  was  always  the 
chance  that  they  might  circle  back.  Allowing  for  the 
time  she  must  lose  by  following  their  trail,  Mercedes 
could  not  hope  to  reach  the  buttes  before  six. 

She  did  better  than  that,  however.     The  fresh  im- 


224  WHISPERING  SAGE 

print  of  shod  hoofs  held  clear,  and  ever  to  the  north. 
Six  o  'clock  found  her  several  miles  beyond  the  canon 
gate.  The  pace  of  those  she  followed  had  been  rapid. 
Even  on  the  bad  footing  where  the  country  began  to 
open  again,  she  saw  there  had  been  no  slackening. 

She  pressed  on.  The  sun  was  down.  Two  hours 
at  best,  and  night  would  be  at  hand.  The  thought 
scourged  her  to  even  more  reckless  riding.  If  the 
light  failed  before  she  found  them,  she  was  beaten. 

Her  pinto  ate  up  the  miles.  There  came  then  a 
turning  to  the  east.  She  strained  her  eyes  when  her 
path  led  into  an  arroyo  already  bathed  in  the  gather- 
ing dusk,  so  as  not  to  miss  the  way  they  had  taken. 
But  it  never  failed  her.  Always  when  coming  to 
higher  ground  she  found  it  before  her,  stretching 
away  to  the  east. 

As  she  rode  Mercedes  kept  continually  asking  her- 
self where  this  trail  led.  Not  bit  by  bit  but  with 
chilling  suddenness  the  truth  burst  upon  her.  This 
continuous  pointing  to  the  east  had  told  her  at  last. 

"The  dam!"  she  cried.  "For  Dios!  They  are 
going  to  blow  up  the  dam!" 

The  muscles  of  her  limbs  lost  their  power  to  hold 
her  firmly  in  her  saddle.  She  swayed  crazily  from 
side  to  side  as  she  dashed  on.  Over  and  over  she  kept 
repeating  aloud:  "The  dam  ...  the  dam."  Or  if 
not  that,  her  lips  moved  in  silent  prayer  that  she 
would  be  in  time  to  stop  her  brother.  Prison  stared 
him  in  the  face  if  she  failed. 

She  pictured  the  water  rushing  into  the  valley ;  the 
stock  swept  away;  houses  made  into  kindling  wood, 


WHISPERING  SAGE  225 

people  killed.  A  mad,  wild  scream  came  from  her: 
"Basilio!" 

It  was  an  utterance  of  agony  of  soul  and  mind  and 
body  that  echoed  and  reechoed  among  the  brooding 
peaks.  Grief  was  in  it,  misery,  despair.  Even  the 
animal  marauders,  getting  ready  for  the  night's  kill, 
hung  back  at  the  sound  of  it. 

And  then,  spread  there  before  her,  lay  the  placid 
water  of  Acklin  's  lake,  reflecting  the  blues  and  purples 
of  the  neighboring  mountains. 


CHAPTER 

A  QUARTER  of  an  hour  after  Mercedes  caught 
her  first  glimpse  of  the  lake,  she  stood  at  the 
water's  edge.  Her  eyes  swept  the  shore-line  in  every 
direction,  but  she  caught  sight  of  no  moving  thing. 
Far  away  to  the  south  the  top  of  the  wall  that  held 
back  the  water  showed  a  low  gray  streak  against  the 
horizon. 

No  trace  of  the  men  she  pursued  had  been  left  on 
the  rocky  land  where  she  stood.  She  rode  an  ever- 
enlarging  semi-circle  in  the  hope  of  picking  up  their 
trail.  Half  an  hour 's  patient  work  rewarded  her  with 
clear-cut  hoof -prints  in  the  sand  to  the  north.  The 
horses  that  made  them  were  going  in  that  direction, 
too. 

Her  tedious  progress  took  from  her  the  last  bit  of 
strength  she  possessed.  But  had  she  been  able  to 
double  her  pace,  she  would  have  hardly  caught  up 
with  her  brother. 

Neither  he  nor  Bodine  had  stopped  once  in  their 
wild  ride  from  Webster  Creek  to  peer  back  for  pos- 
sible pursuit.  Romero  had  attended  to  that  on  his 
own  initiative.  But  they  had  been  nearly  two  hours 
ahead  of  Mercedes.  With  ease  that  surprised  even 
Buck,  they  had  cut  through  Acklin's  country  as  they 
had  planned. 

226 


WHISPERING  SAGE  227 

Esteban  had  reached  the  little  cove  below  Coal 
Creek  by  the  time  his  sister  had  turned  into  the 
eastern  leg  of  their  trail.  His  companions  were  right 
behind  him.  Bodine  gave  the  orders  from  then  on. 

With  expert  hands,  he  crumbled  the  dynamite  and 
heated  it.  While  he  was  getting  the  grease  that  he 
wanted,  Romero  and  Esteban  fashioned  the  raft  that 
was  to  carry  their  instrument  of  destruction.  Buck 
was  ready  as  soon  as  they  were.  Each  one  of  them 
had  come  in  loaded  down  with  material  to  supplement 
the  iron  and  steel  Buck  had  already  cached  for  the 
bomb. 

Esteban  wondered  at  the  big  fellow 's  deftness  as 
he  watched  him  work. 

He  nailed  an  eight-foot  cedar  sapling  spar-fashion 
at  the  end  of  the  raft,  and  on  this  he  looped  and  wired 
his  long,  slow-burning  fuse. 

"Pour  the  oil  over  the  front  of  it  now/'  he  com- 
manded when  he  had  finished.  ' t  Once  this  fuse  burns 
down  to  it,  she  11  blaze  up  like  a  house  afire. " 

Esteban  flung  his  empty  can  into  the  water. 

"Nothin'  more  to  do  now  but  wait  for  the  wind, 
light  a  match,  and  push  her  off/'  said  Buck. 

"It  11  be  better  than  half  an  hour  before  the  wind 
comes/'  Romero  stated. 

Buck  smiled.  He  knew  the  signs.  The  boy  had 
been  nervous  all  the  way.  The  big  fellow  looked  at 
Esteban.  He  was  silent,  brooding.  Any  thought  of 
personal  danger  had  long  since  left  him.  The  near 
approach  of  the  minute  that  would  see  the  valley 
freed  from  Acklin's  grasp  had  sobered  him. 


228  WHISPERING  SAGE 

He  thought  of  Mercedes  and  his  little  blind  brother. 
It  was  for  them  he  had  done  this  thing.  His  father 
was  gone ;  but  at  least  an  Arrascada  had  led  his  people 
to  victory.  There  was  a  certain  satisfaction  in  that. 

"What  a  pretty  sight  that  dam  will  be  for  smooth 
Mr.  Acklin  to-morrow/'  Bodine  said  facetiously.  He 
spread  out  his  hands  piously.  * '  Well,  you  can 't  make 
an  omelet  without  breakin '  an  egg,  can  you  ?  Acklin 's 
our  egg.  It  wouldn't  surprise  me  none  to  see  this 
little  hand-made  lake  change  the  whole  map  of  the 
valley.  It  '11  rip  things  up  a-plenty  as  it  tears  along. ' ' 

* '  We  ain  't  going  to  drown  no  one,  are  we  ? "  Romero 
demanded.  His  people  would  be  right  in  the  path 
of  the  flood. 

Esteban  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"That  's  so,  Bodine.  Is  there  water  enough  here 
to  do  that?" 

For  once  Buck  could  be  honest. 

' '  You  bet  there  is ! "  he  cried.  ' '  This  water  's  goin ' 
to  drop  about  a  thousand  feet  in  seven  miles.  That  '11 
give  it  a  kick  that  '11  tear  the  hinges  right  off  the  old 
barn-door. ' '  He  turned  a  cold  eye  on  his  companions. 
"You  boys  don't  mean  you  overlooked  that,  do  you?" 

Their  blanched  faces  were  answer  enough. 

"That  's  a  fine  thing  to  pull  at  this  gasping  last," 
the  big  man  growled.  "Did  you  think  we  were  goin1 
to  send  out  invitations  to  your  friends  advertisin' 
this  thing?"  He  pointed  to  the  raft.  "This  ain't 
no  time  to  think  about  buildin'  arks." 

"You  're  too  funny,  Bodine,"  Esteban  ripped  back 
at  him.  "I  tell  you  this  thing  is  all  off!" 


WHISPERING  SAGE  229 

"Who  says  so?" 

"I  do!" 

Esteban  beat  him  to  the  nearest  rifle. 

1 '  Put  that  gun  down ;  it  's  loaded, ' '  Buck  said  care- 
lessly. 

"You  heard  me,"  the  boy's  tense  face  did  not 
relax.  "I  tell  you  this  thing's  off!" 

Bodine  began  to  believe  him. 

"You  don't  mean  it?" 

"I  mean  it  all  right,  Bodine.  My  people  are 
down  there!  The  Rancho  will  get  it  worse  than 
any  other  place.  This  deal  is  off  until  I  get  them 
out." 

"I  ain 't  got  no  objection  to  that, ' '  he  cried.  ' ' Get 
'em  out!  It  won't  take  three  of  us  to  push  this 
raft  off.  You  two  beat  it  back  and  get  your  folks 
away.  I  '11  stay  here." 

"Oh,  no,  you  won't."  Esteban  did  not  raise  his 
voice.  "I  'm  not  takin'  any  chance  on  you.  Once 
we  got  out  of  sight  you  'd  let  her  go,  and  get  out  of 
here  on  the  jump.  I  '11  be  stayin'!" 

"That  suits  me!  But  listen;  don't  you  lose  your 
nerve  in  these  God-awful  hills  when  we  're  gone. 
I  '11  bust  you  if  it  's  the  last  thing  I  do  if  you  double- 
cross  me." 

"That  goes  two  ways,  Bodine!  You  fail  me,  and 
I  '11  kill  you  in  spite  of  hell.  Romero,  you  go  with 
him  as  far  as  his  ranch.  He  '11  take  you  there;  if 
he  pulls  a  gun  on  you,  plug  him.  I  '11  wait  until  the 
moon  comes  up  before  I  shove  off  the  raft.  You  '11 
have  plenty  of  time  to  make  it.  You  get  Mercedes 


230  WHISPERING  SAGE 

and  Basilio  into  the  hills.  God  have  mercy  on  you 
if  you  don't.  You  better  get  along  now." 

They  walked  to  their  horses.  Romero  waited  for 
Bodine  to  move  ahead.  Buck  stopped  for  a  brief 
word. 

"You  be  on  the  level  with  me  to-night,  Arrascada, 
and  I  '11  be  square  with  you.  I  '11  see  that  the 
Sefiorita  and  the  kid  are  all  right." 

Esteban  watched  without  moving  until  they  were 
out  of  sight.  Before  him  were  the  longest  hours  of 
his  life.  In  various  ways  he  tried  to  beguile  himself 
into  believing  that  all  was  well.  As  time  went  on, 
his  torture  increased ;  but  the  agony  he  was  enduring 
was  as  nothing  compared  to  the  suffering  of  the  girl 
who  was  searching  for  him. 

The  long  twilight  had  faded  at  last ;  and  with  the 
suddenness  of  a  drawn  curtain,  darkness  closed  down 
upon  the  hushed  world.  The  night  sounds  of  the 
wild  beat  against  her  ears  with  the  passing  of  an 
hour.  Her  pony  stumbled  repeatedly. 

She  determined  to  leave  the  horse  behind.  Re- 
moving his  bridle,  she  left  him  to  wander  home  as  best 
he  could.  The  pinto  whinnied  as  she  moved  away  in 
the  blackness. 

Her  dress  was  soon  torn  to  tatters;  her  limbs 
scratched  and  bleeding.  More  than  once  she  missed 
her  footing  and  came  crashing  down  on  jagged  stumps 
or  sharp  roots. 

The  last  time  this  happened  she  felt  her  ankle,  and 
her  hand  came  up  wet  with  blood.  Mercedes  lay 


WHISPERING  SAGE  231 

where  she  had  fallen,  waiting  for  the  strength  to 
rise.  She  listened  in  vain  for  the  murmur  of  the 
water.  She  was  lost!  She  wanted  to  cry  out;  but 
she  opened  her  mouth  the  first  time,  and  no  sound 
came.  With  supreme  courage  she  forced  herself  to 
her  feet.  She  tried  calling  again,  and  this  time  her 
voice  rang  out  among  the  trees.  The  sound  of  it 
reassured  her.  She  repeated  her  cry.  It  hung  on  in 
the  stillness. 

To  the  girl  it  was  an  eternity  before  the  moon 
peered  through  the  tops  of  the  tangled  cedars.  Trees 
and  brush  began  to  take  shape.  Mercedes  went  on. 
She  found  a  tiny  spring  trickling  to  her  right.  She 
wet  her  lips  with  its  water  and  followed  its  course. 
Soon  she  caught  the  beat  of  waves.  She  had  come 
out  to  the  shore  of  the  lake.  She  cried  out  with  new 
courage.  Her  voice  rolled  over  the  water  to  the  cove 
where  her  brother  lay. 

Esteban  jumped  at  the  sound  of  it.  He  had 
already  waited  long  past  the  appointed  time  to  send 
the  raft  adrift.  The  echo  of  that  cry  in  the  awful 
stillness  decided  him  to  tarry  no  longer.  He  cupped 
his  hands  to  his  lighted  match,  and  the  long  fuse 
began  to  sputter.  The  wind  at  his  back  was  strong 
and  steady.  A  healthy  push,  and  the  raft  with  its 
deadly  load  floated  away  across  the  silvery  water. 

He  did  not  wait  to  speculate  on  the  success  of  its 
errand.  He  had  had  hours  of  that.  Before  long  he 
was  dashing  for  the  buttes,  intent  only  on  reaching 
the  valley. 


232  WHISPERING  SAGE 

His  going  brought  no  sound  to  the  girl.  The  moon 
had  given  her  her  bearings,  and  keeping  ever  within 
sight  of  the  lake,  she  stumbled  to  the  north,  dragging 
her  tired  body  to  new  tortures.  A  glowing  pin-point 
of  fire  moving  across  the  water  caught  her  attention. 
Its  even,  unhurried  flight  fascinated  her.  It  was 
beautiful,  unreal,  ghostly.  But  as  she  watched  it,  the 
raft  moved  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  opposite  shore 
into  the  full  light  of  the  moon. 

She  knew  what  it  was  then,  even  before  the  wind 
had  sent  it  close  enough  to  make  recognition  possible. 
The  truth  left  her  strangely  unmoved.  She  even 
found  herself  admiring  the  cleverness  of  the  men  who 
were  responsible  for  it.  They  had  schemed  well  to 
beat  Acklin !  The  never-halting  approach  of  the  raft, 
the  black  bulk  of  the  mine  rising  from  its  surface, 
the  glowing  fuse  held  aloft  as  if  it  were  a  light  at  a 
masthead,  brought  no  cry  from  her  lips.  This  was 
the  thing  she  had  come  to  stop. 

It  came  so  close  to  her  that  she  could  hear  the 
sputtering  of  the  fuse.  An  eddy  or  a  whim  of  the 
wind  caught  the  raft  then  and  sent  it  away  from  the 
shore.  She  could  not  swim  a  stroke.  Just  what  she 
intended  to  do  she  did  not  know;  but  she  knew  she 
could  never  reach  it,  riding  along  as  it  was,  fifty 
yards  from  the  bank.  She  found,  however,  that  she 
kept  abreast  of  it  as  she  followed  the  margin  of  the 
lake  toward  the  dam. 

This  was  all  very  well  for  a  time,  but  as  she  came  to 
a  cove  that  cut  back  into  the  hills  she  began  to 
despair.  By  the  time  she  had  got  around  it,  the 


WHISPERING  SAGE  233 

raft  would  be  far  ahead.  But  without  looking  back 
she  started  on  the  attempt.  She  had  not  made  more 
than  half  of  the  way,  when  she  darted  a  glance  at 
the  moving  raft.  Her  breath  actually  stopped  for  an 
instant  at  what  she  beheld.  If  it  had  been  a  liner 
making  port  the  raft  could  not  have  turned  more 
accurately  and  headed  more  directly  for  the  little 
cove  on  the  shore  of  which  she  stood.  Mercedes  ran 
towards  it.  She  saw  its  speed  slacken.  Then  came 
a  second  when  it  seemed  to  stand  still.  The  next 
minute  the  current  was  moving  it  back  into  the  lake. 

Without  stopping  to  ask  herself  what  she  would  do, 
or  how  she  would  get  back  to  the  land,  if  she  were 
once  on  the  raft,  she  jumped  for  it.  The  force  with 
which  she  landed  was  impetus  enough  to  send  it 
bobbing  through  the  water  until  the  cove  was  yards 
behind  her. 

Mercedes  knelt  on  the  logs  before  she  rose  to  her 
feet,  not  in  prayer  or  in  fear  of  tipping  over.  She 
was  asking  herself  what  she  could  do.  The  fuse 
sputtered  on  above  her.  The  sound  of  it  began  to 
break  in  on  her  consciousness.  It  came  to  her  then; 
the  fuse;  that  was  it!  To  pull  it  down  and  stamp 
out  the  spark  of  fire  that  was  slowly  devouring  it. 

No  longer  did  the  raft  alter  its  course.  It  was 
free  from  the  trees  and  hills,  and  heading  straight 
and  sure  for  its  appointed  destination.  She  caught 
hold  of  the  rope-like  thing  with  its  glowing  end  of 
fire  and  pulled  and  strained  with  such  force  that  the 
little  tree  came  crashing  down  across  the  raft.  The 
girl  tried  to  let  go,  but  she  was  too  late ;  the  sapling 


234  WHISPERING  SAGE 

fell  with  a  thud,  and  she  rolled  to  the  edge  of  the  logs, 
her  fingers  digging  into  the  bark  as  she  sprawled  over 
them. 

She  scrambled  to  her  feet  and  with  her  boot-heel 
ground  the  coal  into  ashes.  Her  damp  hair  had 
fallen  about  her.  She  brushed  it  back  from  her  eyes. 
She  felt  cold,  numbed,  in  this  minute  of  relaxation. 

She  lurched  toward  the  center  of  the  logs,  her  arms 
lowered  to  help  herself  to  a  sitting  position,  when  a 
scream  was  wrung  from  her.  The  glowing  coal  that 
she  had  stamped  into  the  cedar  was  gone,  but  in  its 
place  rose  a  blaze  a  foot  high! 

A  little  trickle  of  oil  had  seeped  back  to  where  she 
had  crunched  the  end  of  the  fuse.  The  wind  had 
fanned  an  unseen  spark  to  life. 

What  a  fool's  paradise  she  had  dwelt  in  for  that 
short  few  minutes!  For  the  first  time  she  noticed 
the  oil  that  covered  the  front  end  of  the  raft. 

Mercedes  eyed  the  bulking  mine.  It  looked  too  big 
for  her  to  move;  but  she  had  to  attempt  it.  She 
planted  her  feet  firmly  on  the  oil-soaked  raft,  and 
tugged,  and  pushed,  and  shoved ;  but  the  bomb  would 
not  budge. 

The  flames  were  mounting  higher  and  higher, 
sending  out  greedy  tongues  that  licked  at  her  body. 
In  a  rage  of  helpless  impotence,  she  raised  her  torn 
hands  and  struck  and  beat  the  iron  thing  before  her. 
The  cuts  on  her  knuckles  and  fingers  bled  afresh,  but 
she  was  fast  losing  the  power  to  feel  pain.  Salty 
tears  ran  into  the  corners  of  her  mouth.  From  her 
lips  came  a  wild,  almost  insane  cry. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  235 

The  dam  was  near !    Awfully  near ! 

She  called  again,  but  it  was  unintelligible.  The 
word  she  sought  to  utter  was  "Blaze!"  If  he  were 
only  here !  He  was  so  strong ;  so  brave !  She  called 
for  him  once  more.  There  was  no  one  to  answer  her. 

The  end  could  not  be  long  delayed.  This  was 
death !  But  she  raised  unafraid  eyes  to  heaven.  That 
she  closed  them  was  only  because  the  spirit  of  her  was 
reaching  out  for  the  man  she  loved. 


CHAPTER  XXYIII 

ESTEBAN  was  coming  to  the  higher  ground  where 
his  trail  turned  to  the  south  when  he  heard  a 
horse  whinny.  He  had  to  put  his  hat  over  his  mount 's 
nose  to  keep  him  from  answering.  The  other  horse 
called  again;  nearer  this  time.  The  boy  did  not 
wait.  He  wheeled  and  galloped  back  over  the  path  he 
had  just  come  from.  When  he  had  retraced  his  way 
some  two  miles,  he  turned  to  scan  the  lake  far  below 
him.  His  pulse  jumped  as  he  caught  sight  of  the 
flaming  logs;  now  so  near  the  dam  that  from  where 
he  watched  it  seemed  they  must  strike  any  minute. 
What  had  gone  wrong?  What  had  set  them  afire? 
Had  his  companions  been  caught  by  the  Double  A 
men? 

Esteban  moved  higher  up  to  wait  for  the  explosion. 
In  the  confusion  resulting  from  it  he  intended  to  make 
another  dash  for  Webster  Creek.  No  matter  where 
Romero  and  Bodine  were,  they  must  be  counting  the 
seconds  even  as  he. 

And  while  he  waited  the  Double  A  men,  from  Dis- 
aster Peak  to  the  Bull's  Head,  kept  their  watch,  un- 
aware of  the  danger  that  was  sweeping  down  upon 
them.  Kildare  alone,  of  all  Acklin's  riders,  moved 
nervously  about.  Blaze"  had  not  forgotten  his  talk 
that  morning  with  Mercedes.  Esteban 's  mysterious 

236 


WHISPERING  SAGE  237 

trip,  coupled  with  Morrow's  belief  that  trouble  was 
brewing,  seemed  to  argue  more  than  mere  coincidence. 

He  was  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  water  when 
he  caught  the  first  dim  reflection  of  the  burning  raft. 
From  where  he  stood  the  fire  seemed  to  be  on  the  other 
side  of  the  canon.  He  could  not  see  the  lake  itself, 
but  the  faint  red  tinge  in  the  sky  moved.  By  that  he 
knew  that  something  was  burning  on  the  water.  There 
wasn't  timber  of  any  sort  east  of  the  dam.  He  sent 
My  Man  into  a  gallop. 

Long  before  he  came  within  sight  of  the  lake  the 
reflection  in  the  sky  had  deepened  to  red.  The  fire 
could  not  be  a  long  way  ahead.  Far  off,  faint,  he 
heard  a  shot.  As  the  muffled  report  died  away,  he 
thought  he  heard  a  cry,  a  drawn-out  scream.  He 
released  the  safety-catch  on  his  rifle.  His  horse 
fairly  flew  over  the  last  hundred  yards.  He  flung 
himself  from  his  saddle  at  the  brink  of  the  canon. 
The  blazing  raft  was  opposite  him,  lighting  up  the 
water  for  yards. 

In  kaleidoscopic  fashion  he  saw  the  mine;  the  pet- 
rified girl  shielding  her  face  from  the  flames ;  the  dam 
twenty  yards  away.  He  cupped  his  hands,  and  called 
to  her. 

Mercedes  uncovered  her  face  and  looked  up  at  him 
with  wild,  unseeing  eyes.  So  great  was  the  horror 
that  transfixed  her  features  that  Kildare  failed  to 
recognize  her  at  first.  She  turned  her  head  slightly, 
and  then  he  knew. 

He  did  not  stop  to  ask  how  she  came  there.  He 
only  saw  the  leaping  flames,  and  guessed  the  intent 


238  WHISPERING  SAGE 

of  the  black  thing  that  bulked  on  the  surface  of  the 
raft. 

Nothing  could  save  the  dam.  It  was  doomed!  A 
minute  or  two,  and  it  would  be  all  over.  Jumping 
to  her  rescue  would  not  help.  If  he  ran  out  on  the 
dam  both  of  them  would  be  killed  or  swept  away  and 
drowned. 

He  called  to  Mercedes;  but  she  barely  moved  her 
head.  Blaze  called  again.  That  voice!  It  seemed 
to  come  from  leagues  away;  a  phantom  voice! 

Kildare  saw  that  she  did  not  move.  He  cried  out 
again.  The  wind  whipped  the  sound  of  it  behind  him. 
But  the  girl  looked  up.  She  saw  him  and  raised  her 
hands.  Blaze  jerked  his  reata  from  his  saddle-horn 
and  ran  to  the  very  edge  of  the  bank. 

"Take  off  your  skirt, "  he  cried,  "and  wet  it  and 
wrap  it  around  you.    Catch  my  rope  when  it  drops/' 

Mercedes  nodded  her  head. 

The  raft  was  within  ten  feet  of  the  dam  as  his  reata 
began  to  play  through  his  fingers. 

Seconds — they  are  hours  sometimes — were  droning 
"by  as  his  rope  circled  lower  and  lower.  There  would 
never  be  time  for  another  trial.  He  had  to  make  it 
now !  There  was  no  room  for  a  miss. 

An  instant — brief;  life  seemed  to  stop.  Kildare 
blinked  his  eyes  to  clear  them  of  the  film  that  blinded 
him.  Seconds  were  moving  at  express-train  speed; 
yet  even  so,  meaningless,  irrelevant  thoughts  pre- 
sented themselves  in  their  entirety.  Nothing  seemed 
hurried.  He  had  thrown  his  rope.  In  quite  its  ac- 
customed way,  it  leaped  out.  He  watched  it  now.  It 


WHISPERING  SAGE  239 

was  dropping.  The  girl's  hands  were  still  upraised. 
The  rope  was  falling  over  them.  It  was  at  her  waist. 
He  was  pulling  then.  It  was  subconscious  effort! 

A  scream  rose  from  Mercedes;  she  shot  away  from 
the  raft.  He  could  look  down  and  see  the  water  cas- 
cading over  her  as  he  dragged  her  through  it. 

He  heard  the  raft  bump  the  dam.  Some  one  was 
calling ;  Chet  or  Melody,  no  doubt.  A  second  in 
which  to  brace  his  feet ;  and  hand  over  hand  he  began 
paying  in  his  reata,  lifting  her  to  safety.  She  was  half" 
way  to  the  top  of  the  ragged  wall  when  Kildare  felt 
rather  than  heard  a  snap.  His  hands  tingled.  He  had 
been  dragging  his  rope  over  the  ledge,  using  the  rock 
for  leverage.  One  of  the  strands  of  the  finely  woven 
reata  had  given  way — cut  in  two  by  the  jagged  quartz. 

His  arms  trembled.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but 
risk  the  chance  that  the  unraveling  reata  would  hold. 
He  leaned  out  over  the  water  until  Mercedes  was  a 
dead  weight  on  him,  and  pulled.  Another  strand 
broke,  but  he  had  raised  her  to  the  top.  His  hands 
caught  her  arms;  a  last  lift,  and  she  was  beside  him. 

Then  it  came,  without  warning — a  trembling  of 
the  earth.  Thunder  rolled  in  his  ears.  The  dam  was 
gone.  They  were  down,  knocked  flat !  My  Man  went 
to  his  knees.  Pieces  of  rock,  from  the  size  of  a  pea  to 
big,  jagged  fragments  of  granite  that  would  have 
killed  had  they  struck,  rained  about  them.  Water 
splashed  down  in  sheets. 

Men  were  coming.  There  were  sounds  of  horses,  and 
voices  that  pierced  the  bellowing  roar  of  the  water  as 
it  sucked  through  the  gaping  hole  in  the  wall. 


240  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  did  not  move.  Kildare  rolled  her  over 
and  over.  The  girl 's  body  was  cold ;  her  pulse  seemed 
to  have  stopped.  Blaze  slapped  her,  and  beat  her 
with  the  flat  of  his  hands.  He  continually  raised  her 
arms  to  expand  her  lungs. 

Circulation  began  again  in  Mercedes's  body.  A 
tremor  passed  over  her  as  she  gasped  for  air.  She 
began  to  live !  Her  head  was  in  Kildare 's  arms,  her 
back  propped  against  his  knee.  He  continued  to 
watch  her.  She  behaved  as  if  she  was  sleeping. 
Blaze  brushed  the  wet  hair  from  her  face  with  his 
hand.  Gently  he  caressed  her  white  forehead. 

He  felt  her  stir ;  a  second,  and  she  opened  her  eyes. 
Mercedes  refused  to  believe  what  she  saw.  She  lifted 
her  hand  slowly  and  felt  the  man  beside  her.  He  ivas 
real  then ! 

She  uttered  his  name :  ' '  Blaze ! "  It  was  a  whisper. 
Unconsciously  her  fingers  searched  for  his.  The  feel 
of  his  hand  seemed  to  give  her  peace.  Her  eyelids 
closed,  and  she  slept. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

WHILE  Blaze  knelt  with  Mercedes  in  his  arms  on 
the  brink  of  the  canon,  the  roaring  below  them 
grew  in  violence.  Grinding,  screeching,  the  rush- 
ing water  was  ripping  the  hole,  through  which  it 
was  pouring,  into  an  ever-widening  gap.  The  concrete 
was  still  green.  It  had  set  well  enough  to  hold  back 
the  placid  water,  but  against  this  flood  it  was  help- 
less. One  block  would  give  way,  and  bring  its  neigh- 
bors tumbling  down  with  it.  The  titanic  force,  sweep- 
ing by,  caught  -them  up  as  if  they  had  been  marbles 
and  hurled  them  into  the  valley. 

The  moon  revealed  the  foaming,  angry  flood  as  it 
spread  out  over  the  country  below.  It  was  like  an 
ocean.  Not  a  tree  or  stick  was  left  standing.  If 
Brother  Jones  or  any  of  the  boys  had  been  caught 
down  there  they  were  lost.  Nothing  could  have  lived 
in  the  face  of  that  torrent.  The  water  was  dropping 
rapidly  in  the  lake.  Fifteen  minutes  and  it  would  be 
dry. 

From  the  bank  across  the  canon  somebody  called 
him.  It  was  Melody;  good  old  Melody!  Blaze  an- 
swered him.  He  must  have  heard,  for  he  did  not 
cry  out  again.  Acklin  and  many  others  would  be 
there  soon.  He  looked  down  at  Mercedes.  Her  eyes 

241 


242  WHISPERING  SAGE 

were  wide  open,  staring  at  him.  Her  lips  essayed  a 
smile  in  response  to  his  own.  He  stroked  her  fore- 
head tenderly. 

"Don  't  talk  till  you  feel  strong  enough, "  he  sug- 
gested. "The  dam  is  gone.  There  '11  be  water  in 
Paradise  Valley  to-night. "  Blaze  smiled  wisely: 
"We  11  be  able  to  leave  here  soon.  Are  you  still 
cold?" 

Mercedes  shook  her  head. 

"I  tried  to  save  the  dam/'  she  murmured  slowly. 
"Basilio  ...  he  's  down  there." 

"You  trailed  Esteban,  eh?" 

She  nodded. 

"The  little  chief  may  be  all  right,"  Blaze  lied,  won- 
dering how  Esteban  could  have  failed  to  think  of  his 
brother  and  sister.  "The  water  will  be  spread  out 
long  before  it  gets  to  the  hacienda." 

Mercedes  tried  to  sit  up. 

"You  're  not  hurt?"  Kildare  asked. 

"Just  tired  .  .  .  very  tired,  Blaze.  What  will  hap- 
pen to  Esteban  now?" 

"Let  the  others  ask  that.  You  keep  still,"  he 
warned.  "Some  one  '«  coming  now.  It  '11  be  Acklin, 
too." 

It  was  the  Big  Boss.  Skip  and  a  dozen  others  were 
with  him.  The  fury  of  the  man  suggested  the  onrush 
of  the  angry  waters  through  the  gorge.  At  first  he 
saw  only  Kildare. 

"What  did  it?"  he  shouted.    "A  bomb?" 

His  quick-acting  brain  had  sensed  an  invasion  of 
his  empire  that  even  the  courts  could  not  repair.  He 


WHISPERING  SAGE  243 

was  off  his  horse  in  advance  of  his  men  and  striding 
toward  Blaze  when  he  saw  Mercedes. 

"What  's  she  doing  here?"  he  bellowed.  Without 
giving  him  time  to  answer,  he  yelled :  * '  You  saw  her ! 
What  was  she  up  to?" 

Blaze  got  to  his  feet. 

"She  was  doin'  the  best  she  could  to  save  the  dam," 
he  drawled  ominously. 

Mercedes  spoke  for  the  first  time. 

"I  was  too  late,"  she  half  whispered.  "Too  late 
to  save  even  my  little  brother." 

The  men  gathered  close  about  her,  hanging  on  her 
words.  Acklin  felt  himself  outside  the  circle  of  sym- 
pathy. He  turned  and  stared  at  the  remains  of  the 
dam  that  had  been  his  life's  dream.  Some  one  would 
pay  for  that! 

The  lake  was  almost  empty.  Two  men  waded  their 
horses  across  it  and  circled  round  until  they  were 
up  with  the  others.  It  was  Brother  Jones  and  Melody 
with  their  questions. 

Skip  had  produced  a  flask,  and  Blaze  doled  out 
the  stimulant  to  the  girl.  Her  face  lost  its  white- 
ness. 

"Guess  we  better  get  you  back  to  the  Rancho  now," 
he  suggested. 

Acklin  overheard  him. 

"This  is  a  job  for  the  sheriff,"  he  snarled.  "She  's 
going  to  the  Bull's  Head." 

The  crowd  caught  the  clash  of  wills. 

Blaze  saw  Melody.    They  exchanged  a  glance. 

* '  You  misunderstood  me  slightly. ' '    Kildare  's  tones 


244  WHISPEKING  SAGE 

were  too  sweet,  too  even.  ' '  I  said  that  she  was  going 
home, ' '  he  went  on. 

Acklin  should  have  known  better  than  to  continue 
this,  but  he  was  blind  with  rage  over  his  loss.  He 
•refused  to  be  warned.  He  raised  his  hand  to  Skip. 

"Do  what  I  tell  you/'  he  cried.  "Take  her  to  the 
Bull's  Head.  I  'm  still  givin'  the  orders  here."  He 
reached  for  his  revolver. 

Skip  started  to  move,  but  he  took  only  a  step.  Kil- 
dare's  guns  covered  the  crowd. 

' i  Throw  up  your  hands,  all  of  you ! "  he  rasped  out. 
*  *  I  '11  bust  the  first  one  that  moves.  This  is  once  when 
I  give  the  orders.  You  got  a  horse,  Melody?"  he 
asked. 

"I  Ve  heard  him  called  that." 

"Get  her  home  then.  I  'm  telling  you!  Don't 
look  anywhere  else." 

Blaze  turned  to  the  girl. 

"You  go  with  Melody.  He  Jll  get  you  to  the 
Bancho." 

Acklin  saw  the  look  that  passed  between  Kildare 
and  her  before  she  followed  the  red-haired  one  to  his 
horse. 

"She  's  pretty  sweet  on  you,  ain  't  she,  the 
damned — " 

"I  'd  never  finish  that  remark  if  I  were  you,  Ack- 
lin." 

The  Big  Boss  hesitated.  The  girl  was  gone  before 
Blaze  spoke  again. 

"All  right,  boys.  You  can  take  them  down,"  he 
said  slowly.  * '  Thanks  for  obliging  that  way. ' ' 


WHISPERING  SAGE  245 

He  dropped  his  guns  as  he  spoke  to  Acklin. 

"I've  worn  myself  thin  for  your  outfit.  Things 
have  been  going  on  that  I  did  n't  savvy.  But  I  did  n't 
ask  any  questions.  I  could  quit  if  I  did  n  't  like  it.  I 
guess  I'm  through  now.  I  suppose  I  '11  be  getting 
my  pay  in  the  morning. " 

Acklin  glared  at  Kildare.  His  expression  changed 
as  he  told  him  what  Mercedes  had  done.  The  girl's 
daring  won  muttered  approval  from  the  men. 

"If  I  've  lost  my  job,"  Blaze  went  on,  "you  11 
not  hear  a  peep  from  me.  But  I  want  to  tell  you  she 
took  a  chance  to  save  your  dam  that  you  wouldn  't  have 
taken.  Her  kid  brother's  down  there  in  the  valley. 
Maybe  he  's  been  drowned.  You  don't  think  she 
would  have  left  him  there  if  she  had  come  here  to 
blow  up  this  thing,  do  you?" 

Ackiin  walked  back  and  forth  for  a  minute  or  two 
before  answering. 

"You  may  be  right,"  he  growled  at  last.  "I  aim 
to  find  out,  though.  If  she  wasn't  in  this  deal,  her 
brother  was.  She  'd  never  been  here,  otherwise.  He 
wasn't  alone,  either.  I  '11  never  believe  that  a  kid 
like  Esteban  could  make  a  bomb  good  enough  to  blow 
that  wall  out." 

The  big  cow-man  returned  to  his  pacing  back  and 
forth,  as  indication  that  the  incident  was  closed  for 
the  time  being.  The  men  stood  about  uneasily,  won- 
dering what  they  would  do  next.  Acklin  did  not  usu- 
ally keep  them  waiting  for  orders.  Brother  Jones 
spoke  to  Blaze.  Several  others  joined  them. 

With  modesty  peculiar  to  men  of  his  type,  Blaze 


246  WHISPERING  SAGE 

said  little  of  his  rescue  of  Mercedes.  Skip  and  the 
other  boys  were  equally  reticent  in  commenting  on  it, 
but  they  understood.  It  was  the  cow-boy  code. 

Acklin  had  been  drawn  back  to  his  scrutinizing  of 
the  wrecked  wall.  So  far  no  definite  plan  of  action, 
had  evolved  in  his  mind.  His  foreman  must  have 
heard  the  explosion  and  must  be  on  the  way  to  his 
side.  Looking  across  the  canon,  he  saw  a  rider  sil- 
houetted against  the  sky.  His  first  thought  was  that 
it  was  Morrow. 

"Hello,  there  1"  the  other  called.  "That  you, 
Double  AT' 

It  was  Chet  Devine.    Acklin  answered  him. 

"Come  on  over  here,"  the  man  shouted.  "I  got 
the  bird  that  did  this  trick." 

"Who  is  he?"  the  Big  Boss  demanded. 

"I  don't  know.  He  's  hidin'  between  here  and  the 
cedars.  He  's  badly  wounded." 

By  the  time  they  had  made  the  descent  to  the  valley 
and  climbed  up  to  the  high  plateau  on  which  Chet 
waited,  some  of  Morrow's  men  from  the  peak  had 
arrived.  Cash  himself  had  not  yet  shown  up.  Acklin 
left  Patterson  behind  t6  wait  for  him. 

Leaving  their  horses  when  they  neared  the  trees, 
the  men  spread  out  and  began  beating  the  brush. 
Moving  in  an  unbroken  line  they  advanced  toward  the 
spot  that  had  been  the  shore  of  the  lake.  They  had 
come  within  sight  of  it  without  discovering  any  one 
when  a  voice  cried  out  to  them :  ' '  Come  on !  I  'm 
done." 


WHISPERING  SAGE  247 

They  saw  him  then  leaning  against  the  trunk  of  a 
tree.  It  was  Esteban.  He  had  dragged  himself  to 
the  tree  against  which  he  now  rested.  From  there  he 
had  watched  the  water  go  shooting  past  him.  He  had 
a  smile  on  his  face  when  they  reached  him.  Acklin 
recognized  him  first. 

"So  it 's  you,  eh?"  he  questioned.  "I  'm  not  sur- 
prised." 

'  *  I  did  n  't  think  you  would  be, ' '  the  boy  answered 
with  a  grin. 

Blaze  came  up  at  that.    Esteban  stared  at  him. 

"  Hello,  Kildare,"  he  smiled. 

The  cow-boy  shook  his  head  sadly.  The  thing  he 
had  feared  had  happened.  The  young  fellow  seemed 
to  read  his  thoughts.  His  smile  never  deserted  him, 
however. 

"Koll  me  a  smoke,  will  you?"  he  asked. 

Blaze  made  a  cigarette  for  him  and  put  it  in  his 
mouth.  By  the  light  of  the  flaring  match  he  saw  the 
boy's  condition. 

"You're  hurt  bad,  eh?" 

"I  'in  going  out  this  time,  all  right.  But  I  have  n't 
got  any  kick."  He  turned  his  eyes  on  the  Big  Boss. 
"I  wanted  to  beat  you  once — just  once.  I  guess  I  got 
my  wish." 

"Your  pals  will  get  their  wish,  too,"  the  big  cattle- 
man replied  meaningly. 

"That's  talk,  Acklin.  Just  talk!  This  was  my 
party.  I  got  the  dynamite  for  the  job.  I  made  the 
raft.  And  I  sent  it  adrift." 


248  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Oh,  no,  you  didn't!"  It  was  Morrow  who  spoke. 
He  had  been  there  for  a  minute,  unnoticed.  "You 
didn't  make  the  mine  that  did  this  job.  You  ain't 
smart  enough." 

His  men  fell  back  as  the  foreman  advanced  to 
Esteban's  side. 

"We  got  the  fellow  that  bossed  this  job.  Caught 
him  over  in  the  buttes.  Bodine  is  the  man!" 

And  Romero  ?  Had  they  caught  him,  too  ?  The  boy 
had  to  risk  a  question. 

"You  got  him  with  you,  have  yuh?" 

Cash  grinned. 

"He  '11  be  here  directly.  And  the  other  one,  too." 
Cash  didn't  risk  another  name.  Esteban  didn't  no- 
tice that.  His  heart  sank.  Evidently  Cash  was  not 
bluffing. 

"Mercedes  .  .  .  Basilio!"  Esteban  groaned.  His 
head  fell  forward  on  his  chest.  Blaze  put  his  arm 
around  him.  In  a  few  words  he  told  the  boy  about 
his  sister. 

"But  Basilio?"  Esteban  cried  so  that  all  heard. 
"Bodine  promised  to  get  him  out  in  time." 

He  reached  up  and  pulled  Kildare's  ear  down  close 
to  his  mouth.  "You  look  out  for  her,  will  you?  Tell 
her  that  I  tried  to  get  word  to  her  and  the  baby." 

"Buck  up,"  Blaze  pleaded.  "You  're  not  going 
out." 

"Hang  on  to  me,"  the  boy  begged.  "I  'm  choking. 
I  '11  be  gone  in  just  a  minute." 

His  head  fell  forward.  The  little  circle  of  men 
grew  quiet.  Blaze  put  his  ear  to  the  boy's  heart. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  249 

"He  's  not  dead,"  he  breathed  hopefully.  "Some- 
body get  my  horse.  I  'm  going  to  get  him  to  a  doc- 
tor. God  knows,  he  may  have  a  chance. ' ' 

Acklin  said  nothing  as  his  men  helped  Kildare. 

"Where  've  you  got  Bodine?"  he  demanded  when 
Blaze  had  left. 

"Got  him?"  Cash  questioned.  "I  ain't  got  him 
nowhere." 

"What?" 

"No.  I  ain't  seen  Bodine.  I  was  just  runnin'  a 
windy  on  the  kid.  I  picked  up  the  fresh  trail  of 
three  horses  this  evening.  They,  had  come  in  from 
Webster  Creek.  I  've  been  chasin'  back  and  forth 
tryin'  to  pick  'em  up  in  the  dark,  or  I  'd  'a'  been 
here  sooner." 

"What  made  you  think  Bodine  was  among  them?" 

"Shucks!  You  don't  think  there's  anyone  else 
down  there  with  the  nerve  or  brains  to  do  this  thing. 
It  took  an  old  hand  to  make  a  mine  that  would  rip 
out  that  wall.  I  knew  that  boy  could  n  't  have  done  it 
alone.  My  talk  was  all  bluff,  but  it  worked.  Bodine 
was  behind  the  whole  thing." 

' l  Who  do  you  think  was  the  third  man  ? ' ' 

Cash  shook  his  head. 

"I  ain't  even  got  a  guess." 

Acklin  contorted  his  mouth  nervously. 

"No  matter,"  he  said  after  an  interval.  "We  11 
make  Bodine  tell  before  we  get  through.  "We  '11  all 
ride  to  the  ranch  first.  I  'm  going  to  turn  out  every 
man  we  've  got,  Cash.  We  '11  throw  a  circle  over  this 
country  that  no  one  '11  crawl  through.  If  we  pick 


250  WHISPERING  SAGE 

up  Bodine,  lie  11  be  among  the  dear  departed  by 
morning. ' ' 

Morrow's  eyes  bulged. 

"You  mean  you  're  goin'  to  stretch  him?"  he 
gasped. 

"That  's  exactly  what  I  mean,"  Acklin  growled. 

"He  's  got  it  comin'  to  him  all  right."  Cash  raised 
his  arm.  "Come  on,  boys,  let 's  ride.  We  're  goin' 
to  organize!" 


CHAPTER  XXX 

BODINE  had  relieved  Romero  of  the  responsibility 
of  getting  Mercedes  and  Basilio  out  of  the  path 
of  the  flood.  Finding  Mercedes  gone,  Buck  picked 
up  the  child  and  dashed  for  Webster  Creek.  The  ex- 
plosion came  as  he  entered  the  ranch-house. 

Shorty,  lantern  in  hand,  followed  him  inside. 

"Guess  we  had  company  this  afternoon,"  he 
growled.  "A  lady  at  that!" 

Taking  Shorty's  lantern,  the  big  fellow  followed 
the  trail  Esteban  and  Romero  and  he  had  taken  that 
afternoon.  A  few  minutes'  search  convinced  him 
that  his  supposition  was  correct;  Mercedes  had  fol- 
lowed them  into  the  hills!  Her  only  object  could 
have  been  to  stop  them.  Well,  she  had  been  too  late, 
or  had  missed  her  brother  altogether.  With  that  for 
a  basis  on  which  to  build,  Buck  was  not  long  in  set- 
tling upon  what  he  wanted  to  do. 

For  months  he  had  been  trying  to  inveigle  Mer- 
cedes to  his  place.  He  had  the  means  to  compel  her 
to  come  now.  Whether  she  had  met  Esteban  or  not, 
the  explosion  must  have  sent  her  dashing  back  to  the 
Rancho  as  quickly  as  she  could  go.  Her  brother 
would  never  risk  taking  that  shorter  way.  The  girl 
would  be  there  hours  before  Esteban  arrived ! 

It  was  the  work  of  a  minute  for  him  to  pen  a  note 


252  WHISPERING  SAGE 

to  her.  To  prove  his  point  with  the  girl,  he  made 
the  child  scrawl  an  attempt  at  his  name  across  the 
bottom  of  the  note.  This  accomplished,  he  sent  Shorty 
to  deliver  it. 

Gloomy  and  the  others  lounged  about  the  room. 

Webster  Creek  was  running  about  half  full,  prov- 
ing that  the  flood  had  torn  away  the  barrier  they  had 
built  to  keep  the  water  out  of  the  Rebel.  That  was 
all  right  as  far  as  Buck  was  concerned.  If  he  con- 
tinued to  get  as  much  as  old  man  Webster  had  had 
before  nature  turned  things  topsyturvy,  the  ranch 
was  worth  a  small  fortune. 

Basilio,  in  the  next  room,  began  crying. 

' 'Somebody  shut  that  kid  up,"  Buck  bellowed. 

Speculation  as  to  Acklin's  discomfiture  had  worn 
itself  out.  Gloomy  yawned.  One  of  the  others  got  up. 

" Guess  I  '11  turn  in.    The  show's  over." 

Buck  had  done  his  share  of  the  talking  in  the  time 
that  had  elapsed  since  Shorty  left,  but  his  nimble 
brain  had  been  busy  with  matters  alien  to  the  con- 
versation. His  men  were  surprised,  therefore,  when 
he  said : 

"Boys,  I  don't  think  you  'd  better  roost  here  to- 
night." 

"We  might  scare  the  lady,  eh?"  Gloomy  questioned. 

"Don't  you  worry  'bout  the  lady,"  Buck  said 
easily.  ' '  She  don 't  enter  into  it  at  all. "  As  a  matter 
of  truth,  Mercedes's  coming  was  in  part  responsible 
for  Bodine  's  desire  to  get  his  men  away. 

* '  We  11  have  visitors  before  morning, ' '  he  went  on ; 


WHISPERING  SAGE  253 

"and  they  won't  be  ladies.  Even  if  those  two  boys 
keep  their  mouths  shut,  Acklin  may  get  the  hunch  that 
we  were  mixed  up  in  this  thing.  I  '11  bet  his  men  are 
scourin'  the  hills  right  now.  If  they  come  here,  Mor- 
row might  trip  some  of  you  boys.  If  I  'm  alone,  there 
won't  be  anybody  to  do  the  answerin'  but  me.  Drift 
into  the  hills  in  back  of  old  Liotard's  place.  Shorty  '11 
be  along.  If  I  build  a  fire  to-morrow  morning,  come 
in.  It  '11  be  all  right.  You  better  saddle  up." 

Buck  fanned  the  coals  in  the  kitchen  stove  into  a 
tiny  blaze  when  they  had  gone.  Next  he  filled  the 
coffee-pot.  "When  he  had  set  it  on  the  fire,  he  propped 
up  his  chair  and  fell  to  dreaming. 

It  had  been  an  eventful  day  for  him.  He  had  paid 
Acklin  in  full  for  his  double-crossing;  there  was 
water  in  Webster  Creek  once  more ;  and  on  top  of  it, 
here  was  Shorty,  bringing  him  the  sweetest  morsel 
of  all. 

He  flashed  a  glance  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearly 
two.  Shorty  ought  to  be  coming  soon.  This  calcula- 
tion, however,  was  wide  of  the  mark.  He  had  for- 
gotten the  impassable  roads  and  the  water-soaked 
flats  over  which  the  man  had  to  travel. 

Shorty  had  not  yet  reached  the  Rancho.  Buck  had 
sent  him  with  a  team  and  a  light  wagon,  with  instruc- 
tions to  take  the  short  cut  east  of  the  cemetery  in 
Paradise.  But  he  had  been  turned  back  and  had 
followed  the  main  road  to  Winnemucca  almost  to  the 
Little  Washoe 'before  he  dared  to  strike  eastward  to 
the  hacienda. 


254  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  and  Melody  had  met  with,  similar  condi- 
tions. After  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  get 
across  the  valley,  the  poet  had  found  it  necessary  to 
retrace  their  way  and  get  into  the  hills,  where  they 
had  found  the  old  wood  road  that  came  down  through 
Smoky  Canon. 

The  girl  was  exhausted.  Melody  wondered  how  she 
clung  to  her  horse.  He  tried  to  cheer  her  up,  but  it 
was  a  hopeless  task.  For  at  least  the  twentieth  time, 
he  told  the  girl  that  some  one  must  have  taken  Ba- 
silio  to  safety.  He  had  no  knowledge  that  warranted 
his  certainty.  His  words  sounded  empty  even  to  him- 
self the  last  time  he  uttered  them.  So,  in  silence,  they 
covered  the  last  half-mile.  After  four  or  five  unsuc- 
cessful attempts,  Melody  found  a  way  through  the 
choked  creek-bottom. 

He  was  in  the  lead  when  they  came  out  and  was 
the  first  to  catch  sight  of  the  flood-swept  home.  Both 
wings  of  the  house  were  gone.  Not  a  sign  remained 
of  barns  or  corrals.  Piled  high  about  the  portion  of 
the  building  which  still  stood  was  wreckage  of  every 
description.  The  entire  lower  floor  had  been  under 
water  at  one  time.  Not  a  window  was  left.  Doors 
hung  crazily  on  twisted  hinges. 

Melody  knew  Mercedes  had  come  up  beside  him, 
but  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  away  from  the  ruins. 
Daylight  would  have  revealed  them  relentlessly;  but 
the  searching  rays  of  the  sun  could  never  invest  that 
tangled  pile  of  stone  and  torn  timbers  with  the  se- 
pulchral air  with  which  the  moon  now  bathed  it.  It 
was  unreal,  ghastly. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  255 

The  cow-boy  nerved  himself  to  face  the  girl  beside 
him.  She  was  staring  fixedly  at  all  that  was  left  of 
the  once  beautiful  hacienda.  It  had  been  the  only 
home  Mercedes  had  ever  known.  Every  childhood 
memory  centered  within  its  walls.  Under  other  cir- 
cumstances its  destruction  would  have  crushed  her; 
but  she  had  been  through  too  much  this  night  already. 
Her  nerves  and  emotions  had  lost  the  power  to  react 
to  further  torture. 

She  was  dazed  by  what  she  beheld.  She  wanted  to 
dash  into  the  ruins  and  search  with  feverish  haste 
for  Basilio,  but  a  trance-like  lethargy  enveloped  her. 
It  frightened  Melody  more  than  tears.  His  voice 
quavered  uncertainly  as  he  spoke  to  her. 

"I  '11  take  a  look  inside,  if  you  '11  wait  out 
here." 

Mercedes  shook  her  head. 

"No,  I  '11  go  with  you." 

"You  better  not  do  that,"  the  cow-boy  begged. 
"Things  11  be  torn  up  pretty  bad  in  there." 

"But  B-B-Basilio."    She  hesitated  over  the  word. 

"I  tell  you,  we  won't  find  him,  Senorita.  He  ain't 
here." 

It  was  his  old  assertion.  Mercedes  had  moved  ahead 
of  him.  If  she  were  determined  to  search  the  ruins, 
it  would  be  useless  for  him  to  try  to  hold  her  back. 
It  would  be  better  to  stay  at  her  side  and  buck  her  up 
if  she  did  find  anything. 

It  took  him  some  time  to  clear  a  passage  into  that 
part  of  the  house  which  had  escaped  total  destruc- 
tion. A  foot  of  mud  and  debris  covered  the  floors. 


256  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Furniture  was  piled  on  end.  Great  holes  gaped  in  the 
walls  where  the  plaster  had  given  way. 

Melody  found  a  lamp  upstairs.  He  called  time 
after  time  for  the  child  before  he  came  down.  Mer- 
cedes had  cried  out,  too,  but  they  got  no  answer. 
With  the  aid  of  the  light,  they  went  over  the  wreck- 
age carefully,  but  not  a  trace  of  the  child  or  of  the 
two  old  servants  was  to  be  had. 

Faith  in  his  own  prophecy  began  to  grow  in  the 
red-haired  one. 

"I  knew  somebody  had  got  them  out/'  he  stated. 

" Maybe  they  got  lost  when  they  try  to  run,"  Mer- 
cedes murmured  mournfully. 

"No!  The  flood  came  too  quick  for  that.  If  they 
had  n  't  been  warned,  they  'd  be  right  here.  We  '11 
find  them  at  some  of  the  neighbors  to  the  west.  If 
you  say  so,  we  '11  go  now." 

"I  best  stay  here,  Senor.  I  'm  tired  ...  so  tired. 
You  will  go  quicker  by  yourself." 

"But  I  can't  leave  you  here  all  alone  in  this  place. 
You  'd  be  scared  to  death.  It  looks  haunted." 

She  smiled  at  him  tenderly. 

"There  is  nothing  here  to  frighten  me,  my  friend. 
Mercedes  knows  every  rock  and  stone  in  this  house. 
If  spirits  come  here,  they  must  be  the  spirits  of  those 
who  loved  me;  my  mother — or  my  father  .  .  .  My 
good  father!" 

"He  was  that,  all  right,"  Melody  snapped  out.  "He 
was  a  hundred  per  cent." 

The  cow-boy  gazed  at  the  door.    "I  11  be  blubberin' 


WHISPERING  SAGE  257 

like  a  kid  if  I  don't  get  out  of  here  in  a  hurry, "  he 
murmured  to  himself.  Aloud  he  said: 

"I  '11  wait  here  till  you  get  upstairs.  It  '11  be  light 
in  three  hours.  Now  don't  you  get  nervous.  I  won't 
come  back  without  him." 

A  few  minutes  later  she  heard  him  riding  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

MELODY  had  instilled  in  Mercedes  some  degree 
of  confidence  in  his  ability  to  find  Basilio.    It 
sustained  her,  now  that  she  was  alone ;  that,  and  her 
faith  in  Kildare.    She  could  count  on  him.    He  had 
even  defied  Acklin  for  her. 

She  tried  to  mutter  a  prayer,  but  mind  and  body 
were  so  exhausted  that  the  effort  was  incoherent. 
With  the  little  strength  that  remained  in  her,  she  man- 
aged to  get  to  the  bed  that  stood  in  the  center  of  the 
room.  Undressing  was  beyond  her.  She  tried  to 
unlace  her  boots,  but  her  eyes  closed. 

Mercedes  did  not  know  how  long  she  had  been 
asleep  when  she  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  some 
one  creeping  stealthily  up  the  stairs. 

It  was  Shorty.  He  had  called  several  times  and, 
getting  no  answer,  had  begun  searching  the  house, 
bent  on  picking  up  whatever  trifles  he  could  find  and, 
at  the  same  time,  intending  to  make  certain  that  he 
had  not  left  himself  open  to  Bodine's  displeasure. 

When  Mercedes  threw  open  her  door  and  faced 
him,  he  was  the  more  frightened  of  the  two.  But 
Shorty  was  truly  an  evil-looking  figure  as  she  saw 
him  standing  in  the  light  that  streamed  on  him. 

"What  you  want  here?"  she  demanded. 

"You  the  Senorita?"  Shorty  questioned  in  turn. 
258 


WHISPERING  SAGE  259 

' '  I  am.    What  is  your  business  ? '  ' 

* '  I  got  a  letter  for  you. ' '  He  brought  it  forth  from 
a  coat-pocket.  "I  been  callin'  for  ten  minutes.  I 
did  n't  think  they  was  any  one  home." 

Mercedes  read  the  note  hastily.  Her  heart  beat  fas* 
ter  as  she  recognized  Basilic 's  strange  letters.  He 
was  alive  then ! 

"You  are  one  of  Bodine's  men,  huh?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  ma'am.    We  bin  together  a  long  time." 

"I  never  see  you  before/'  the  girl  cautiously  re- 
marked. 

Shorty  smiled. 

"Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  ain't  bin  goin'  round 
much.  I  sorta  stay  to  home  like." 

* '  You  have  seen  my  brother  then  ?    He  is  not  hurt  ? ' ' 

"No!  He  's  all  right,  unless  he  's  cried  hisself  to 
death." 

"Oh,  I  wish  you  had  brought  him  here,"  Mercedes 
gasped. 

"Well,  lady,  Buck  was  afraid  they  wouldn't  be 
anythin '  left  of  this  place.  I  bin  hours  gittin '  here.  I 
got  a  rig  to  take  you  in.  We  '11  have  to  go  round 
by  the  Winnemucca  road  to  make  it. ' ' 

The  girl  weighed  what  she  was  doing,  for  all  of 
her  excitement,  as  she  followed  Shorty  downstairs  to 
his  team.  She  had  good  reason  to  fear  Bodine ;  but  she 
had  to  go  to  Basilio.  At  least,  it  would  be  dawn  when 
she  arrived  there. 

In  answer  to  a  sudden  impulse  she  snatched  a  pin 
from  her  dress,  and  as  she  stepped  upon  the  veranda 
she  fastened  Bodine's  note  to  the  door  without  attract- 


260  WHISPERING  SAGE 

ing  Shorty's  attention.  Melody  would  be  sure  co  find 
it  there. 

With  a  distinct  sense  of  fear  she  took  her  seat  be- 
side Bodine's  man.  Being  alone  with  him  in  the 
hacienda,  with  its  old  associations  and  familiar  ob- 
jects to  give  her  courage,  had  been  terrible  enough; 
being  in  the  open  with  him  in  the  dead  of  night  was 
infinitely  more  terrifying. 

Mercedes  tried  to  keep  to  her  end  of  the  seat,  but 
as  the  wagon  jolted  and  swayed  over  the  uneven 
ground,  she  was  thrown  against  him  from  time  to 
time.  If  Shorty  noticed  her  effort  to  keep  as  much 
distance  as  possible  between  them,  he  gave  no  sign 
of  it. 

As  they  went  on  and  the  wagon  continued  to  rock 
back  and  forth,  the  girl  became  drowsy.  Her  struggle 
to  keep  to  her  end  of  the  seat  began  to  cease.  The 
man  beside  her  was  no  longer  the  evil-looking  thing 
he  had  been.  Mercedes  felt  her  head  resting  on  his 
shoulder.  It  was  soft  and  wonderfully  comfortable. 
She  sighed  contentedly. 

By  the  time  they  came  to  the  main  road  she  slept. 
Shorty's  arm  was  around  her  to  keep  her  from  fall- 
ing, the  expression  on  his  face  as  emotionless  as  ever. 
In  this  fashion  they  traveled  to  Webster  Creek. 

They  had  not  yet  arrived  there  when  the  note  Mer- 
cedes had  pinned  to  the  door  of  the  hacienda  caught 
Kent's  attention.  His  place  had  escaped,  and  his 
first  thought  had  been  of  the  girl  and  Basilio. 

In  the  interval  that  had  followed  the  first  dim 
echo  of  the  explosion  he  had  realized,  by  a  process 


WHISPERING  SAGE  261 

of  deduction  peculiar  to  himself,  that  the  dam  had 
been  destroyed.  By  the  time  he  had  spoken  a  few 
brief  words  over  the  telephone,  the  flood-waters  were 
whirling  past. 

The  destruction  of  the  dam  caused  Kent  no  regret. 
For  all  of  his  talk,  Tuscarora  was  a  lawless  old  soul. 
Dynamite  had  accomplished  more  in  a  second  than 
all  of  his  weeks  of  patient  work.  Acklin  had  got 
what  he  richly  deserved.  He  might  rant,  and  his  legal 
henchmen  tear  their  hair;  but  the  dam  was  gone! 

Some  one  would  pay  dearly  for  destroying  it,  if  he 
were  caught.  Catching  him  was  something  else  again ! 
Thus,  in  spirit  quite  accepting  the  accomplished  fact, 
he  had  ridden  to  Buena  Yista. 

The  note  on  the  door  had  caught  his  attention  im- 
mediately. It  told  him  very  little.  If  Basilio  was  at 
Bodine's  place,  where  were  Mercedes  and  Esteban? 

He  was  searching  the  rooms  above  when  he  heard 
some  one  ride  up. 

" Hello,  there!"  he  called.    "Who  are  you?" 

''That  you,  Tuscarora?"  the  new-comer  questioned 
anxiously. 

Kent  recognized  Kildare's  voice.  He  ran  down- 
stairs to  meet  him. 

"Where  's  Mercedes  and  Melody?"  Blaze  de- 
manded. 

"Ain't  no  one  here  but  me.  They  must  V  got 
away  in  time." 

"No,  no!  Melody  brought  her  here  after  the  dam 
went  out." 

Kent's  eyes  widened,  and  Kildare  told  him  briefly 


262  WHISPERING  SAGE 

of  the  explosion  and  of  taking  Esteban  to  Paradise, 
where  the  doctor  held  out  hope  for  the  boy. 

"Bodine  promised  to  get  Basilio  to  safety,"  Blaze 
exclaimed.  ' '  She  did  n  't  know  that  when  she  started 
down  here,  though." 

" Guess  he  did!"  Tuscarora  answered.  "Or  what 
do  you  make  of  this?"  He  produced  the  note.  "I 
found  it  pinned  on  the  door." 

"My  God!"  Blaze  groaned.  "She's  gone  to  Bo- 
dine 's  as  sure  as  fate.  He  's  decoyed  her  there  with, 
this.  But  what  happened  to  Melody?  He  wasn't 
here  when  she  received  this  note,  or  else  she  would  n 't 
have  stuck  it  up  like  that.  It  was  meant  for  him  all 
right !  Damn  it !  If  I  had  n 't  had  to  go  back  to  the 
ranch  to  get  here,  I  'd  a  been  in  time." 

His  jaws  closed  with  a  click.  He  wheeled  on  Kent 
with  an  angry  glitter  in  his  eyes.  Tuscarora 's 
anxiety  for  the  girl  matched  Kildare's. 

"They  been  gone  an  hour,  sure,"  the  little  man 
stated,  "or  I  'd  'a'  seen  them  on  my  way  here." 

"Let  's  not  waste  any  more  time,"  Blaze  cried,  as 
he  flung  himself  into  his  saddle.  "Listen,  Kent,"  he 
went  on.  "How  long  will  it  take  you  to  get  the 
sheriff?" 

"He  may  be  in  Paradise  now.  Land  's  a  friend  of 
mine.  I  'phoned  him  as  soon  as  I  heard  the  explo- 
sion. He  won't  waste  any  time  gettin'  up  here  from 
Winnemucca. ' ' 

"Well,  you  get  him  as  quick  as  that  old  nag  of 
yours  will  let  you.  Swear  in  all  the  deputies  you 
can,  and  fan  it  for  Bodine's  place.  There  's  going 


WHISPERING  SAGE  263 

to  be  hell  to  pay  there  in  another  hour.  Acklin  is 
going  to  swing  him  if  he  can. ' ' 

"He  means  business,  huh?" 

"You  bet  he  does!  But  I  intend  to  have  some- 
thing to  say  about  that.  I  don't  want  him  hung! 
This  party  of  Acklin 's  is  going  to  throw  the  fear  of 
God  into  an  old  friend  of  mine.  I  've  got  to  stop  it 
some  way." 

Blaze  was  thinking  of  Shorty. 

"I  'd  have  given  an  arm  to  have  kept  this  thing 
from  coming  to  a  head  to-night.  The  beans  are  in 
the  fire  now  all  right.  Too  bad!  But  say,  if  Bodine's 
harmed  her  he  11  have  to  square  it  with  me.  Acklin 
won't  cheat  me  out  of  that." 

Still  Blaze  realized  as  Kent  and  he  dashed  along 
that  if  the  Big  Boss  and  his  men  got  to  Webster 
Creek  first,  as  was  most  likely,  the  odds  against  being 
able  to  play  for  time  until  the  sheriff  and  his  posse 
arrived  would  make  the  effort  almost  hopeless.  The 
cow-boy  racked  his  brain  to  invent  some  game  of 
cross  purposes  by  which  he  could  accomplish  this  seem- 
ing impossibility.  He  understood  fully,  too,  that  even 
with  the  sheriff  there  it  was  no  certainty  that  Bodine 
would  not  be  hanged.  If  Acklin  insisted  on  going 
through  with  his  threat,  the  law  would  be  sorely  tried 
to  stop  him. 

They  came  directly  to  the  place  where  the  road 
forked.  Blaze  was  ahead.  He  drew  up  until  Kent 
was  beside  him. 

"I  'm  going  to  try  and  get  around  by  the  cemetery 
now,"  he  called  to  the  little  man.  "I  '11  make  it,  too. 


264  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Don't  forget;  swear  in  all  the  deputies  you  can. 
You  've  got  to  make  good  for  me,  Joe.  Acklin  will  be 
there  a  hundred  strong.  He  was  'phoning  to  the 
X  L  and  the  Bar  Circle  for  men  when  I  left  the  Bull's 
Head.  His  waddies  from  Eloise  and  Squaw  Valley 
are  moving  already.  He  's  throwing  a  circle  of  riders 
around  Bodine's  ranch  that  won't  stop  at  anything. 
By  the  time  it  begins  to  draw  in,  men  will  be  thicker 
than  flies  along  Webster  Creek." 

"I  '11  be  there  'fore  long;  pert  and  chipper,  too," 
Tuscarora  assured  him. 

"Don't  lose  a  minute,  Joe.  I  'm  going  to  try  and 
catch  Mercedes  before  she  gets  there.  If  I  don 't,  any- 
thing is  liable  to  happen.  I  '11  stall  until  you  come." 

Kent  did  not  turn  for  a  backward  glance.  Like  a 
shadow  he  was  gone  in  the  night.  Kildare  had  dis- 
appeared as  rapidly.  Far  across  the  valley  the  same 
urge  for  haste  had  taken  possession  of  Shorty.  He 
lashed  his  lagging  team  into  a  gallop  that  sent  them 
flying  over  the  remaining  miles. 

And  while  they  hurried,  in  the  hills  above  them, — 
unseen  and  unheard,  miles  away  in  places, — Acklin 's 
men  were  moving.  Their  speed  was  slow,  in  marked 
contrast  to  those  below  them.  But  they  began  to 
join  hands,  and  they  came  on  apace.  The  gaps 
in  the  circle  began  to  fill.  The  Bar  Circle  boys  came 
up.  Over  on  the  north  the  men  from  Eloise  arrived 
at  their  appointed  destination. 

It  was  the  gathering  of  the  clans.  The  Double  A 
had  heard  the  call.  And  at  their  head  rode  Acklin, 
the  Big  Boss,  the  feudal  lord. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

BODINB  caught  sound  of  Shorty's  coming  when 
the  man  was  still  some  distance  away.    Buck  had 
worked  himself  into  a  fine  ferment  as  he  waited.    He 
put  on  his  hat  now  and  went  to  the  barn.     He  wanted 
a  word  with  Shorty  before  he  faced  the  girl. 

He  heard  him  drive  into  the  yard,  and  saw  Mer- 
cedes get  out  of  the  wagon  and  walk  into  the  kitchen. 
A  few  seconds  later  Shorty  pulled  up  his  team  in 
front  of  the  barn. 

"Damn  it,  man,  where  you  been?"  Buck  demanded 
angrily. 

"You  mean,  where  ain't  I  been,"  Shorty  growled 
back  at  him.  "Look  at  that  rig.  It  's  been  over  the 
hubs  in  mud  half  the  time.  I  got  what  I  went  after, 
didn't  I?" 

' '  Yeh  ?  And  you  had  me  scared  to  death,  too.  You 
unhitch  your  team  and  saddle  up.  The  boys  are 
waitin'  for  you  on  the  trail  that  goes  up  to  Liotard's 
place.  I  '11  bring  you  down  in  the  mornin'  if  every- 
thing's  0.  K." 

"What  about  the  kid?"  Shorty  asked. 

"I  clean  forgot  him,"  Buck  admitted.  "You  stay 
and  hang  on  to  him.  If  he  starts  squawkin'  again, 
wring  his  little  neck." 

265 


266  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  drew  back,  as  Buck  opened  the  kitchen 
door.  The  slovenly  disorder  of  the  room  and  the  air 
of  mystery  which  hung  over  the  entire  place,  had  thor- 
oughly alarmed  her.  Bodine  saw  her  nervous  start. 

"Well,  I  see  you  got  here  at  last,"  he  said  with  an 
easy  smile.  "I  knew  you  'd  be  worried  about  the 
kid." 

"Is  he  aU  right?" 

"Sure;  sound  asleep  right  now." 

' '  Let  me  have  him,  please.    I  want  to  take  him. ' ' 

"You  ain't  thinkin'  of  leavin'  here  'fore  mornin', 
are  you?"  Buck  demanded. 

"Si,  Senor,  I  go  at  once." 

"No  you  're  not,  querida."  Bodine  used  the  term 
of  endearment  with  assured  familiarity.  "I  risked 
my  neck  gettin'  the  kid  out  of  danger  for  you,  and 
you  ain't  goin'  to  pay  me  back  by  refusin'  my  hos- 
pitality." 

"It  was  kind  of  you  to  save  him;  but  I  want  to 
get  him  and  go.  I  am  afraid  here. ' ' 

"Afraid?"  Buck  laughed.  "There  ain't  nothin' 
to  be  afraid  of  with  me  here.  I  '11  look  out  for  you." 

"But  I  want  to  go,"  Mercedes  repeated  anxiously 
as  Buck  tried  to  induce  her  to  take  a  seat. 

His  eyes  narrowed  a  trifle. 

*  *  Now,  honey, ' '  he  went  on,  ' '  you  forget  that  I  said 
you  was  goin'  to  stay.  I  got  a  habit  of  bein'  obeyed 
round  this  place.  If  you  want  the  kid,  you  got  to  be 
good  to  me." 

"What  you  mean?"  the  trembling  girl  demanded. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  267 

"Let  's  get  down  to  cases,"  Buck  answered  her. 
"There's  no  use  beatin'  round  the  bush.  I  been  sweet 
on  you  ever  since  I  first  clamped  my  eyes  on  you. 
You  knew  it,  too,  and  you  gave  me  the  low-down  every 
time.  But  that  's  all  right.  I  like  a  woman  with 
some  scrap  in  her.  You  've  got  nerve  enough  to 
match  my  own.  That  's  why  I  'm  strong  for  you.  I 
swore  I  'd  get  you  some  day,  and  I  'm  goin'  to  make 
good.  I  didn't  bring  your  kid  brother  here  for 
nothin'." 

"Stop — stop,  please,"  Mercedes  begged. 

Her  nearness  to  him  drove  Buck  mad  with  desire. 
She  was  even  more  lovely  that  he  had  supposed. 

"Why,  querida,"  he  said  fervently,  "there  ain't 
a  thing  I  've  got,  I  wouldn't  give  for  you.  I  got 
water  on  this  place  again.  It  's  worth  somethin'  now. 
But  I  ain't  a  rancher.  I  'd  throw  up  this  thing  in  a 
minute  for  you.  There  ain't  no  real  money  in  ranch- 
ing, nohow.  I  '11  take  you  where  there  's  some  life 
and  excitement.  This  God-forsaken  desert  ain't  no 
place  for  a  girl  like  you." 

"You  mean  that  you  want  me  to  go  with  you — f " 
Mercedes  could  not  believe  her  ears. 

"Yes,  I  '11  even  marry  you,  if  you  11  come  with 
me,"  Buck  replied. 

The  girl  before  him  shook  her  head  hopelessly.  The 
man  must  be  mad. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say?"  he  demanded. 

"I  say  no!"  Mercedes  cried.  She  put  a  chair  be- 
tween them  as  Buck  advanced  toward  her.  The  look 


268  WHISPERING  SAGE 

in  his  eyes  was  proof  enough  of  his  intention.  He 
wanted  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  feel  her  warm  flesh 
against  his  whether  she  would  have  it  or  not. 

' '  You  have  trapped  me ! "  she  exclaimed.  * '  I  do  not 
believe  my  brother  is  here  at  all. ' ' 

"He's  here  all  right,"  Bodine  assured  her.  "Hey,. 
Shorty, "  he  called. 

"Yep,"  came  the  muffled  answer  from  the  next 
room. 

"Wake  that  kid  up!" 

Mercedes  rushed  towards  the  door  excitedly. 

"Don't  hurt  him,"  she  wailed. 

Buck  got  in  front  of  her. 

' '  He  won 't  hurt  him, ' '  he  murmured.  ' '  I  just  want 
to  show  you  he  's  here." 

The  girl  heard  Basilio's  startled  cry  as  Shorty 
awakened  him. 

"You  beast!"  Mercedes  shrieked.  "Let  me  have 
him !  Let  me  have  him ! ' ' 

"Not  till  you  say  yes  to  me,  Senorita." 

"You  coward!  No  wonder  you  want  to  run  away. 
Senor  Acklin  will  send  you  to  prison  for  blowing  up 
his  dam." 

"Yeh?"  Buck  questioned  exasperatingly.  "Este- 
ban  will  go  with  me,  too,  won't  he?"  In  a  changed 
tone  he  went  on :  "You  followed  us  into  the  hills  this 
afternoon;  I  knew  that  long  ago.  What  else  you  've 
found  out,  I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  care." 

He  disproved  this  last  statement  by  immediately 
asking : 

"Have  you  seen  Acklin?" 


WHISPERING  SAGE  269 

Mercedes  caught  a  hint  of  uneasiness  in  his  voice. 

"I  have,"  she  answered. 

1 '  Humph !  I  suppose  you  told  him  all  you  know  ? ' ' 
The  big  fellow's  tones  were  threatening. 

Mercedes  saw  her  advantage. 

"I  tell  him  nothing!"  she  cried.  "But  I  will  if 
you  do  not  give  me  Basilio  and  let  me  take  him 
home." 

Her  words  enraged  Bodine. 

"So  you  're  goin'  to  try  and  play  me  against  him 
are  you?  He  's  sweet  on  you,  too.  Say,  you  ain't 
kiddin'  yourself  that  Acklin  would  marry  you?  He  's 
just  playin'.  I  got  you  now,  and  I  'm  goin'  to  keep 
you.  He,  nor  anybody  else,  ain't  goin'  to  take  you 
away  from  me,  you  beautiful  little  devil.  Come 
here!" 

Buck  reached  out  his  long  arms  and  caught  her 
around  the  waist.  Mercedes  fought  to  get  free,  but 
he  was  too  strong  for  her. 

"Now  you  change  your  mind  in  a  hurry,  or  I  11 
make  you."  He  raised  his  voice.  "Give  that  kid's 
arm  a  twist  or  two."  Then  he  continued  to  the  girl: 
"I  '11  show  you  who  's  boss  here." 

Shorty  more  than  obeyed  Buck's  order.  Basilio  let 
out  a  succession  of  shrieks,  as  the  brute  twisted  his 
arm  until  the  tender  bones  were  almost  snapping. 

"Stop!"  Mercedes  cried  so  loudly  that  her  voice 
carried  to  Kildare,  who  was  still  some  distance  down 
the  road.  "Stop !"  she  called  out  again. 

"Maybe  you  '11  listen  to  reason  now,"  Buck 
grumbled. 


270  WHISPERING  SAGE 

He  caught  her  by  the  wrist  as  he  spoke  and  drew 
her  closer  to  him.  Mercedes  beat  his  face  with  her 
free  hand.  But  his  jaw  was  impervious  to  her  light 
blows.  With  feline  ferocity  she  bared  her  nails  then, 
and  ripped  his  cheeks  until  they  were  smeared  with 
blood.  Bodine  did  not  release  her,  however. 

"You  fightin'  wildcat,"  he  mumbled  through 
gritted  teeth,  "I  '11  kiss  you  if  it  kills  me." 

Try  as  hard  as  she  might,  Mercedes  could  not  hold 
him  off.  His  cruel,  sensuous  mouth  drew  close  to  her 
own.  To  add  to  her  horror,  Basilio  shrieked  again 
and  again.  She  redoubled  her  efforts  to  get  free.  Bo- 
dine  pinioned  her  arms  against  her  hips.  She  felt 
something  sharp  ripping  her  sleeve.  It  was  Buck's 
revolver.  Automatically  her  fingers  closed  upon  it. 
With  a  wrench,  she  pulled  it  out  of  the  holster.  Bo- 
dine  felt  the  gun-barrel  boring  into  his  stomach.  His 
face  grew  white. 

"Get  back!"  Mercedes  gasped.  "En  seguida!  At 
momenta!  or  you  die  here ! ' ' 

Buck  backed  away.  He  knew  she  meant  what  she 
said.  His  rifle  stood  in  the  corner.  He  retreated 
toward  it.  The  way  to  the  door  between  the  two 
rooms  was  clear  now.  Mercedes  ran  to  it  and  flung 
it  open. 

Shorty  sat  on  the  bed  beside  Basilio,  the  child's 
arms  still  held  in  his  big  hands.  A  smoky  wall  lamp 
revealed  him  in  all  of  his  ugliness.  But  if  he  saw  the 
girl,  he  did  not  show  it.  His  grip  on  the  child  did  not 
relax,  either.  Mercedes  cried  out  for  him  to  let  go  of 
her  brother;  she  raised  her  gun  to  compel  him.  But 


WHISPERING  SAGE  271 

fear  such  as  she  could  never  inspire  in  him  held 
Shorty  in  its  grasp.  He  had  caught  sight  of  Blaze 
peering  through  the  open  window. 

Mercedes  saw  only  the  man  and  child  in  front  of 
her.  Shorty's  rigidity  turned  with  incredible  swift- 
ness to  most  violent  action.  He  dropped  his  arm  and 
brought  it  up  with  a  gun  in  his  hand  so  quickly  that 
it  surpassed  belief. 

But  Kildare  had  been  more  rapid  than  he.  Shorty's 
gun  came  up,  and  up,  and  up,  as  Mercedes  watched, 
spellbound.  It  seemed  that  it  was  pointing  at  her. 
Her  finger  twitched,  and  her  own  gun  barked. 

Kildare  saw  the  play ;  the  girl  at  the  door,  her  gun, 
raised ;  Shorty 's  pistol  leaping  into  action ;  the  fran- 
tic child  struggling  to  throw  off  the  iron  hand  on  his 
arm.  But  more  poignant  than  anything  else  was  the 
glitter  in  Shorty's  eyes.  Blaze  knew  he  was  the 
man's  target,  not  the  girl.  His  gun  was  in  his  hand. 
A  tightening  of  the  lips  and  his  automatic  spat  forth 
its  deadly  message. 

He  saw  Mercedes's  gun  flash.  The  report  of  it 
smothered  his  own.  Only  a  split-second  of  time,  that 
words  fail  to  express,  had  intervened  between  the 
two  shots.  So  close  had  they  been  that  neither  the 
girl  nor  Bodine  in  the  next  room  realized  two  guns 
had  spoken. 

Buck  rushed  to  where  the  girl  stood  staring  open- 
mouthed  at  the  man  on  the  bed.  For  a  second,  it 
seemed,  Shorty  hung  poised  in  the  air.  His  face  was 
set,  an  unearthly  light  in  his  eyes.  And  then,  with  a 
thud,  he  crashed  to  the  floor  dead. 


272  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes's  fingers  stiffened.  Her  gun  clattered 
against  the  wall.  Basilio  had  heard  her  voice.  He 
searched  for  her  and  came  to  her  side  as  Buck  laid 
his  hand  on  her  arm.  She  saw  neither  of  them.  The 
dead  thing  on  the  floor  held  her  in  a  trance. 

Kildare  had  not  waited  for  a  second  look.  He 
drew  away  from  the  window  and  picked  up  the  empty 
shell  from  his  gun.  He  threw  it  into  the  creek.  Why 
he  did  this  was  not  plain  to  him  at  the  time.  In  some 
way,  he  knew,  Shorty's  death  might  be  turned  to  his 
advantage.  But  how?  How?  He  tried  to  whip  his 
mind  into  helping  him.  He  felt  no  regret  over  kill- 
ing the  man.  It  was  part  of  the  debt  he  had  come  to 
square.  Acklin  would  be  here  in  a  few  minutes.  It 
was  almost  dawn.  How  could  he  twist  this  thing  so 
that  it  would  halt  the  Big  Boss? 

"How  can  I  stall  him?"  he  muttered  to  himself. 
"It  's  here  somewhere." 

Blaze  caught  sight  of  a  man  approaching  on  horse- 
back. He  had  been  there  only  a  second  or  two.  Kil- 
dare drew  back  into  the  shadows  lurking  about  the 
•house. 

Bodine  was  looking  up  at  Mercedes  from  where  he 
knelt  beside  the  body. 

"You  killed  him  all  right,"  Blaze  heard  him  say. 
"He  's  plumb  dead.  What  you  goin'  to  do  now?" 
"Who's  goin'  to  the  pen?  This  State  's  no  place  for 
you.  Say,  I  guess  you  '11  be  glad  to  beat  it  with  me. 
You  wait!  I  '11  get  a  couple  of  fresh  horses  and 
we  '11  hit  it  for  Oregon  on  the  jump." 

"Throw  up  your  hands!" 


WHISPERING  SAGE  273 

It  was  a  rude  interruption  of  Buck 's  words. 
1 '  You  ain  't  going  -to  Oregon,  or  anywhere  else. ' ' 
Bodine  looked  around.     In  the  doorway  stood  the 
Big  Boss. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

BODINE  stared  speechlessly  at  Acklin.  Shorty's 
sudden  death  and  Mercedes's  maddening  influ- 
ence had  destroyed  Buck's  boastful  pose.  He  had 
been  prepared  earlier  in  the  evening  for  the  advent 
of  Morrow  or  some  lesser  light  in  the  Double  A  con- 
stellation. But  at  no  time  had  he  dreamed  that 
Acklin  himself  would  come  single-handed  to  beard 
him  in  his  own  den. 

The  Big  Boss  walked  across  the  kitchen  to  the 
doorway  of  the  room  in  which  Shorty  lay.  As  Buck 
recovered  from  the  daze  he  was  in,  he  finally  man- 
aged to  articulate: 

"I  ain't  armed!" 

"Take  your  hands  down  then,"  Acklin  snapped. 
"Back  into  the  center  of  that  room." 

Bodine  retreated  as  he  was  ordered,  facing  the 
other  man  as  he  stepped  backward.  The  big  cattle- 
man kept  pace  with  him.  A  movement  near  the  win- 
dow to  which  Mercedes  had  stepped  with  Basilio 
stopped  him  in  his  tracks.  His  gun  was  in  position  as 
he  wheeled,  but  he  dropped  it  in  consternation  as  he 
recognized  the  girl  and  child. 

Hatred  flamed  in  Acklin^s  eyes.  Finding  her  here 
with  Bodine  was  a  staggering  blow  to  his  vanity.  He 
had  overheard  Buck's  words  urging  flight  to  Ore- 
gon. They  were  going  together! 

274 


WHISPERING  SAGE  275 

He  remembered  how  she  had  repulsed  him;  how 
he  had  found  her  that  very  night  in  the  arms  of  one 
of  his  hired  hands.  What  a  fool  he  had  been  to  let 
her  slip  through  his  fingers.  Well,  he  'd  put  a  stop 
to  Bodine 's  little  game!  And  then  he  'd  have  his 
way.  He  'd  take  her  back  to  the  Bull's  Head  and 
keep  her  there  until  he  was  ready  to  let  her  go. 

Mercedes  bit  her  finger  nails  nervously  under  the 
searching  scrutiny  of  Acklin's  eyes.  Her  very  ex- 
citement made  her  seem  guilty  to  him.  The  crying 
child  brought  back  to  the  man  a  recollection  of  Este- 
ban  's  words.  Bodine  had  taken  care  of  the  child  then ! 
She  had  come,  too !  In  some  way  she  had  got  rid  of 
his  man,  Melody. 

He  stamped  his  feet  in  exasperation  and  rage  as  he 
reasoned  it  out.  It  was  all  too  pat,  too  well  joined 
up  to  be  anything  but  connivance.  The  girl  had 
helped  to  blow  up  the  dam  no  matter  what  Kildare 
had  said.  She  looked  guilty,  and  she  was  guilty! 

His  voice  rose  to  a  roar  as  he  opened  his  mouth  to 
speak. 

"So  you  're  getting  ready  to  skip  with  Bodine,  eh? 
That  's  your  little  plan,  is  it?  You  forget  it!  He  's 
done  all  the  traveling  he  's  going  to  do.  You  '11  go 
with  me  when  I  leave  here.  Aw-w-wh!  Who  did 
that?" 

He  pointed  to  Shorty. 

"She  did!"  Bodine  cried,  wiping  the  blood  from 
his  scratched  face.  ' '  Pulled  my  gun  out  and  got  him 
from  the  door  there!" 

"Is  that  right?"  Acklin  bellowed. 


276  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Mercedes  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  He 
could  hear  her  sob  as  she  turned  away.  It  was  an- 
swer enough  for  him. 

"They  11  take  you  to  jail  for  this,"  he  grumbled. 
He  stopped  to  mutter  to  himself.  Then:  "No,  they 
won't  either!  I  '11  fix  that!" 

He  came  close  to  Bodine.  Buck's  nerve  had  re- 
turned in  a  measure. 

"You  won't  take  her  away  from  me,  Acklin;  not 
that  way, ' '  he  cut  in  before  the  Big  Boss  could  speak. 
But  Acklin  laughed  in  his  face  for  his  pains. 

"You  have  your  little  joke,  Bodine/'  he  warned. 
"Your  time  's  short  enough." 

Buck's  face  paled  a  trifle  at  the  studied  ease  with 
which  the  man  before  him  uttered  this  statement. 

"What  you  hintin'  at  now?"  he  demanded. 

"When  my  men  get  here  you  '11  find  out.  You 
didn  't  think  you  could  get  away  with  what  you  pulled 
on  me  to-night,  did  you?  You  bossed  this  deal!" 

Bodine 's  lips  twitched  uneasily.  Had  that  fool  kid 
given  him  away?  His  poker  eyes  searched  Acklin 's 
face  for  some  sign  of  bluffing,  but  he  found  nothing 
to  reassure  him. 

"You  ain't  goin'  to  have  me  arrested  on  that  bos- 
co's  word,  are  you?"  he  asked. 

"No.     We  ain't  going  to  arrest  you,  Bodine." 

The  directness  of  this  statement  blanched  the  big 
fellow's  face.  They  were  going  to  do  without  the 
law:  that  was  what  Acklin  was  saying!  The  blood 
along  Buck's  spine  grew  cold  for  a  brief  second.  But 
his  concern  passed.  He  had  been  in  dire  straits  be- 


WHISPERING  SAGE  277 

fore  and  lived  through.  He  summoned  a  grin  to  his 
mouth  now  and  laughed  derisively,  pretending  not 
to  understand  the  innuendo. 

"You  're  all  cut  up  about  your  dam,  ain't  yuh?" 
The  laugh  died  out  of  Bodine's  voice.  "You  '11  never 
rebuild  that  little  toy,  either;  not  if  you  jug  me!" 

It  was  Acklin's  turn  to  smile. 

"We  clean  forgot  about  your  injunction  when  we 
built  it,  did  n  't  we  ? "  he  asked  sarcastically. 

"No!"  Buck  shook  his  head.  "You  forget  how 
the  water  was  tricked  out  of  the  Rebel  so  that  you 
could  build  your  dam!  When  I  tell  my  story  to  a 
jury,  you  '11  go  into  eclipse." 

"The  jury  that  's  going  to  hear  your  case  will  use 
a  rope!  You  get  that,  Bodine.  By  the  time  the 
coroner  comes  to  get  this  thing  on  the  floor,  the  buz- 
zards will  be  picking  your  bones.  There  won't  be 
anybody  but  me  to  say  how  this  man  got  shot.  And 
if  I  say  that  you  did  it  the  matter  will  be  ended.  You 
are  going  to  swing!" 

Unconsciously  in  his  anger  Acklin  raised  his  voice 
until  it  registered  even  on  Mercedes's  bewildered 
mind.  The  significance  of  that  word  "swing"  brought 
her  back  to  a  realization  of  where  she  was.  It  had  a 
marked  effect  on  Bodine,  too.  The  conviction  settled 
on  him  that  the  time  for  flight  had  arrived.  The 
lord  of  the  Double  A  was  too  matter-of-fact  in  both 
words  and  manner  to  argue  anything  but  strong  re- 
inforcements at  his  back.  When  they  arrived  he 
would  indeed  be  helpless. 

Buck  cast  an  anxious,  calculating  eye  at  the  win- 


278  WHISPERING  SAGE 

dows.  The  one  at  his  back  was  open.  It  was  near 
enough,  too.  A  flying  leap,  and  he  could  make  it.  In 
the  murky  grayness  of  early  dawn  he  could  steal  away. 
Acklin  was  looking  at  his  watch.  It  was  an  oppor- 
tunity, a  chance ! 

Mercedes  was  watching  Bodine.  She  saw  his  fingers 
clench,  his  muscles  knot.  She  divined  his  intention. 
Her  mouth  opened  in  amazement. 

Bodine  crouched  then  for  the  spring  that  was  to 
take  him  to  safety;  but  the  patter  of  horses  outside 
the  window  at  which  he  was  aiming  stopped  him 
short.  Acklin  smiled  at  him  pityingly.  He  had  heard, 
also. 

Kildare  had  watched  Acklin  and  Bodine.  He 
blessed  every  minute  that  passed  without  bringing  the 
rank  and  file  of  the  Double  A  to  thwart  him.  That 
the  Big  Boss  had  come  there  single-handed  revealed 
Acklin  in  a  new  light.  Blaze  had  always  found  him 
cautious,  tactful,  unemotional.  His  coming  here 
was  madness.  He  could  not  have  known  that  Bodine 
was  alone.  Or  had  he  figured  that  the  man  was  in 
hiding;  that  the  house  on  Webster  Creek  would  be 
deserted? 

And  Bodine — what  was  his  game?  Had  his  men 
got  wind  of  trouble?  Shorty's  presence  argued 
against  that. 

Acklin 's  frank  statement  of  what  he  intended  doing 
with  Mercedes  inflamed  Blaze  more  than  anything 
Bodine  had  said.  The  mask  was  off ! 

He  had  heard  the  bustle  of  approaching  men  a  long 
minute  before  Buck  or  Acklin  became  aware  of  their 


WHISPERING  SAGE  279 

noise.  There  were  five  or  six  in  the  party.  He  rec- 
ognized Brother  Jones's  cackling  voice.  A  second 
later  the  old  man  and  his  companions  were  tramping 
into  the  kitchen. 

Blaze  recognized  Chet  and  Patterson  bringing  up 
the  rear.  They  were  all  heavily  armed.  Brother 
Jones  was  already  at  the  door  of  the  room  in  which 
Acklin  had  cornered  Bodine.  The  others  were  at  his 
heels. 

Kildare  sprang  into  action.  He  placed  his  hands 
on  the  sill  and  vaulted  into  the  kitchen.  When  the 
Big  Boss  caught  sight  of  him,  he  believed  the  man  had 
come  in  with  the  others. 

"Here  he  is!"  the  owner  of  the  Double  A  called 
out,  pointing  at  Bodine. 

"My  Gawd!  Who  done  that?"  Brother  Jones  ex- 
claimed, catching  sight  of  the  body  in  the  corner.  He 
walked  over  to  the  corpse  and  touched  it  with  his  foot. 
" Humph!  He  's  dead,  ain't  he?" 

The  coming  of  these  men  turned  Buck's  face  a 
sickly  hue.  He  actually  stammered  when  he  said: 
"She  d-d-did  it!" 

Mercedes's  heart  leaped  as  she  saw  Kildare.  He 
made  no  attempt  to  go  to  her.  The  girl's  half -raised 
hand  fell  limply  to  her  side.  She  dimly  realized  that 
the  man's  eyes  were  trying  to  convey  some  message 
to  her.  She  saw  him  tap  his  lips  significantly.  And 
then  Acklin  was  saying: 

"You  boys  forget  that  remark  of  his.  He  's  lying. 
There  was  only  the  three  of  us  here,  and " 

"You  're  not  counting  me,  I  guess." 


280  WHISPERING  SAGE 

The  crowd  wheeled  on  Kildare. 

"Why,  you  just  came  in,  now — with  Jcnes,  didn't 
you?"  Acklin  roared. 

Blaze  shook  his  head. 

"No,  I  Ve  been  here  for  almost  half  an  hour.  Bo- 
dine  didn't  do  any  shooting." 

Life  flowed  back  into  Buck's  veins  immediately. 
This  was  help  from  an  unexpected  source. 

"That  11  stop  your  little  game,  Acklin!"  he  cried. 

The  Big  Boss  paid  no  attention  to  Bodine's  words. 
His  eyes  were  on  Blaze.  In  tense  tones  he  said  to 
him: 

"You  ain't  saying  who  did  it,  Kildare.  But  you 
and  I  know.  It  means  a  trial — jail!  We  don't  want 
that.  If  you  '11  pass  me  your  word,  we  11  string  up 
this  skunk  for  blowing  out  the  dam  and  killing  this 
man,  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

Here  was  an  argument,  a  stall!  Blaze  hesitated 
over  his  answer. 

"Hanging/  he  drawled  provokingly,  "won't  do 
away  with  that  thing  in  the  corner ! ' ' 

Then  came  the  clatter  of  many  horses. 

1 '  Here  are  the  rest  of  the  boys.  We  11  get  moving ! ' ' 
The  Big  Boss  raised  his  voice.  "Somebody  bring  in 
a  rope,"  he  cried.  "Hurry  up!" 

Blaze  heard  the  men  dismounting.  There  were  not 
less  than  twenty-five  in  the  crowd.  There  wouldn't 
be  any  delay  now.  This  affair  was  going  through  to 
its  sordid  finish.  Bodine's  face  was  ghastly.  With- 
out quite  knowing  why  he  did  it,  Kildare  walked 
past  him  into  the  kitchen. 


WHISPERING  SAGE  281 

There  seemed  to  be  some  delay  outside.  He  could 
hear  a  murmur  of  voices.  Bodine's  rifle  stood  in  the 
corner.  Blaze  picked  it  up  and  threw  a  shell  into  the 
barrel.  In  the  past  he  had  pondered  at  some  length 
over  acquiring  this  gun.  He  saw  that  it  was  the  same 
caliber  as  Acklin 's.  That  effectually  snapped  the 
flimsy  thread  of  circumstantial  evidence  by  which  he 
had  expected  to  trap  Jose's  murderer.  He  told  him- 
self now  that  he  should  not  have  expected  any  other 
end  to  such  reasoning.  At  least  he  still  had  the 
Indian  charm. 

The  others  started  moving  into  the  kitchen.  Brother 
Jones  had  a  gun  at  Bodine's  back.  Acklin  sang  out 
again  for  those  outside  to  hurry  up.  In  answer  to 
his  second  call  the  door  was  flung  open.  Blaze  could 
hardly  see  for  joy.  The  man  who  had  just  entered 
was  Tuscarora! 

" Sorry  I  had  to  keep  you  waiting,"  the  little  fel- 
low cried.  "I  been  hurryin'  to  beat  all  get  out!" 

"What  're  you  doing  here?"  Acklin  shouted. 

Kent  smiled  faintly. 

"You  might  enlighten  me,  too,  in  that  direction. 
I  got  the  sheriff  and  some  twenty  deputies  outside, 
if  that  's  any  news  to  you." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

TN  the  silence  that  followed,  Land  squeezed  past  the 
•*•  little  man  in  the  doorway.  He  was  broad-shoul- 
dered, gigantic;  a  sheriff  of  bygone  days.  In  the 
crook  of  his  arm  he  carried  a  time-worn  army  Win- 
chester that  he  had  taken  away  from  a  renegade 
Piute. 

"Well,  Acklin?"  he  asked  easily. 

"You  're  making  yourself  a  lot  of  trouble  butting 
in  here,  Land." 

"Don't  you  go  worryin'  about  me.  I  '11  take  care 
of  myself."  He  turned  to  Kent :  "Are  your  friends 
here,  Joe?" 

"How  about  that,  Blaze?"  Tuscarora  demanded. 
1 '  Is  the  Senorita  and  her  brother  here  ? ' ' 

"They  're  in  the  next  room." 

Mercedes  had  heard  Kent's  question.  She  left  the 
window  against  which  she  had  been  leaning  and  came 
to  the  door  between  the  rooms.  The  child  was  asleep 
in  her  arms. 

The  girl's  woeful  appearance  stabbed  the  little  man 
to  the  heart.  "What's  the  matter,  honey?"  he  mur- 
mured sympathetically  as  he  reached  out  to  help  her. 

"Tell  Peter  to  come  in  here,"  he  called  to  Land,  a 
second  later.  When  the  old  Basque  came  in,  Kent 
gave  the  sleeping  child  to  him. 

282 


WHISPERING  SAGE  283 

"Take  him  outside  till  this  thing  's  over,"  he  ad- 
vised. 

Mercedes  placed  her  hands  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
two  men.  She  seemed  to  gain  strength  from  the  very 
nearness  of  Kent  and  her  uncle. 

"You  better  go  with  Peter,  too,"  Tuscarora  ad- 
vised. "We  11  get  you  home  in  a  few "  He 

stopped  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  grisly  object  in  the 
corner.     "Land!"  he  cried,  "look  here!" 

The  sheriff  called  in  several  of  his  deputies  before 
he  moved  out  of  the  kitchen. 

"You  know  what  the  law  is,"  he  warned  them 
"You  're  here  to  defend  it." 

His  shrewd  eyes  scanned  Acklin's  face.  The  Big 
Boss  scowled  darkly.  As  Land  was  about  to  step 
past  him,  the  cattle-man  spoke. 

"There  's  a  dead  man  in  the  next  room.  That 
little  pouter-pigeon  who  came  in  with  you  has  found 
him.  You  'd  better  let  the  coroner  take  care  of  this. ' ' 

The  sheriff's  mustache  began  to  bristle. 

"According  to  last  reports,  the  county  is  payin-'  me 
my  wages;  not  you.  Don't  you  be  so  hostile." 

Bodine  grinned  at  this  speech.  His  respect  for  the 
law  increased  a  hundredfold. 

Land  hastily  examined  the  dead  man. 

"Everybody  step  in  here,"  he  ordered.  He  got  to 
his  feet  and  wiped  his  hands  on  his  trousers.  "Who 
knows  about  this?"  he  continued.  "He  ain't  been 
dead  long." 

Bodine  answered  him.  Had  not  this  good  sheriff 
saved  his  neck? 


284  WHISPERING  SAGE 

1 '  I  reckon  I  can  tell  you  about  it, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Acklin 
knows,  too.  Me  and  Kildare  and  the  girl  were  here 
when  it  happened.  She  killed  him!" 

"No,"  Land  groaned,  unable  to  believe  his  ears. 
"Not  that  little  girl  there." 

"That  's  who  I  mean.  She  pulled  my  gun  out  of 
my  holster  and  fired  from  the  doorway." 

The  sheriff  shook  his  head  uneasily.  His  deputies 
— all  Paradise  men — caught  their  breath.  Acklin 
glared  at  Bodine. 

Kent  placed  his  arm  about  Mercedes's  shoulders. 

"You  didn't  do  this,  honey,  did  you?"  he  mur- 
mured. 

The  crowd  waited  for  her  answer.  They  were  a 
hard-living  lot,  for  the  most  part,  but  Mercedes  won 
their  instant  sympathy.  They  saw  how  the  hysterical 
girl  fought  to  gain  control  of  herself. 

"I  ...  I  ...  I  don't  .  .  .  don't  know,"  she 
sobbed.  "I  came  to  get  Basilio.  Bodine  had  him. 
He  would  not  let  me  go.  He  said  I  must  go  away 
with  him.  ...  I  would  not  do  that.  He  made  the 
other  man  hurt  the  baby.  He  was  ..."  A  sob 
choked  her. 

Land's  Basque  deputies  muttered  angrily  and  the 
Double  A  men  scowled  at  Bodine.  Before  Mercedes 
could  go  on,  Acklin  got  the  sheriff 's  attention. 

"She  don't  know  what  she  's  saying,"  he  cried. 
"She  's  in  no  condition  to  know  what  she  did.  You 
can't  take  the  word  of  a  hysterical  girl.  I  know  what 
happened.  Kildare  was  here;  he  knows  also.  Bo- 
dine 's  trying  to  save  his  own  skin.  I  ain't  going  to 


WHISPERING  SAGE  285 

see  this  girl  thrown  into  jail.  I  tell  you,  Bodine 
did  it!" 

The  Big  Boss  turned  until  his  eyes  met  Kildare 's. 
They  stared  at  each  other  for  a  full  second  before 
Acklin  continued.  The  crowd  caught  the  deadly  in- 
tentness  of  that  glance.  It  held  its  breath  again.  The 
Big  Boss  turned  back  to  the  sheriff. 

"You  ask  Kildare  if  what  I  say  isn't  so."  The 
words  clicked  off  his  tongue. 

Land  arched  his  eyebrows.  "Well?"  he  de- 
manded. 

It  grew  quiet.  The  crowd  waited  for  Kildare 's  an- 
swer. He  began  to  shake  his  head.  He  was  speaking. 
The  crowd  strained  its  ears. 

"That 's  not  what  happened,"  they  heard  him  say. 

He  was  about  to  go  on  when  the  kitchen  door  flew 
open  and  Big  Homer,  Acklin 's  Kelly  Creek  foreman, 
came  in,  herding  before  him  Bodine 's  men.  Morrow 
was  back  of  him. 

"Found  these  birds  hidin'  out  in  the  hills  beyond 
Liotard's  shack,"  Cash  announced.  "Had  to  be  a 
little  bit  rough  with  'em  before  we  could  induce  'em 
to  come  along  with  us." 

Nez  Perce  looked  as  if  he  had  been  rolled  down  a 
mountain-side.  Some  of  the  others  were  not  much 
better  off. 

Bodine 's  eyes  bulged.  His  surprise  was  not  greater 
than  Kildare 's.  For  the  first  time  since  he  had  left 
the  dam,  he  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

The  room  was  in  an  uproar.  Blaze  walked  over  to 
the  sheriff's  side.  Bodine  was  just  behind  him. 


286  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"That 's  my  gun  you  Ve  got  there/7  he  said.  "I  '11 
trouble  you  for  it." 

"Guess  that  's  so/'  Blaze  answered.  He  broke  it 
and  threw  out  the  shell  he  had  snapped  into  position. 
It  was  daylight  by  now.  Quite  without  premedita- 
tion, Kildare  glanced  at  his  watch.  Bodine  saw  the 
charm  that  dangled  from  its  chain.  He  reached  out 
his  hand  to  examine  it. 

"What  you  doin'  with  my  charm?"  he  asked. 

"Your  charm?"  Blaze  queried  in  a  tone  to  match 
his  own.  "Melody  gave  me  that  weeks  ago.  Found  it 
outside  the  Bull's  Head.  What  makes  you  think  it  's 
yours  ? ' ' 

"I  'd  recognize  that  luck-piece  with  one  eye  shut. 
I  fell  off  a  horse  once  and  bent  that  lower  end  there. 
That  little  trick  has  brought  me  plenty  luck."  He 
pushed  it  back  into  Kildare 's  hand.  "You  keep  it. 
We  '11  need  some  luck  before  this  thing  's  over." 

Buck  had  scented  a  possible  ally  in  Blaze.  He  saw 
that  Kildare  and  Acklin  were  against  each  other. 
Blaze  wanted  to  shout:  Bodine  had  killed  Jose! 

Land  called  for  order.  His  deputies  had  their  guns 
ready. 

"Watch  Bodine,"  Blaze  whispered  to  Kent  as  Land 
began  speaking. 

"I  want  it  quiet  now,"  the  sheriff  was  saying.  "We 
can't  go  on  with  all  this  commotion.  I  want  to  hear 
the  rest  of  your  story,  Kildare.  I  aim  to  find  out 
who  killed  this  man." 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell,"  Blaze  drawled.  "I 
came  up  to  the  house  and  heard  the  little  chief  scream- 


WHISPERING  SAGE  287 

ing.  This  thing  on  the  floor  was  trying  to  twist  off 
the  child 's  arms.  He  saw  me  and  drew.  I  happened 
to  be  a  little  quicker. "  Blaze  paused  to  glance  at 
Mercedes.  "Yes,"  he  went  on,  "I  killed  him." 

Acklin  and  Morrow  began  to  whisper  excitedly. 
The  Double  A  men  began  to  gather  about  them. 

1 '  Guess  you  'd  better  get  your  prisoner  and  get  out 
of  here,  Land,"  Acklin  said  ominously.  "We  got 
a  little  personal  matter  to  settle  with  Bodine." 

"You  're  pretty  cocky,  ain't  you,  Acklin?"  the 
sheriff  flung  at  him.  "It  's  your  move!  You  get 
along  or  I  11  arrest  the  lot  of  you  for  disturb  in'  the 
peace." 

1 1 Say ! ' '  roared  the  Big  Boss.  "I  Ve  got  a  hundred 
men  strung  out  along  the  creek.  They  Ve  been 
circling  on  this  place  for  three  hours.  All  I  Ve  got  to 
do  is  to  raise  my  hand  to  bring  them  tumbling  into- 
this  room.  I  don't  want  any  trouble  with  you.  But 
sheriff  or  no  sheriff,  we  're  going  to  take  care  of  that 
skunk !  He  blew  up  the  dam !  God  knows  how  many 
people  have  been  drowned  and  how  much  damage  the 
flood  has  done.  If  you  folks  are  homeless,  you  can 
thank  him  for  it.  I  warn  you,  Land,  keep  your 
hands  off !  Bodine  is  going  to  swing.  Get  your  rope, 
Jones. ' ' 

Brother  started  for  the  door. 

"Whoa,  there!  Easy  in  the  boat,"  Land  warned. 
"Men,"  he  called  to  his  deputies,  "you  Ve  been  sworn 
to  uphold  the  law.  If  any  of  these  boys  refuse  to- 
stop,  use  your  guns.  The  State  will  back  you  up." 
His  eyes  turned  on  Acklin.  "That  was  a  nice  little 


288  WHISPERING  SAGE 

party  you  had  arranged.  But  it  won't  come  off. 
Why?  Well,  just  because  it  won't.  I  've  got  you 
outnumbered  three  to  one.  Kent  here  got  busy  on  the 
telephone  before  we  left  Paradise.  All  the  Basque 
genie  between  this  ranch  and  the  Washoe  are  headin* 
in  this  direction.  And  they  're  comin'  armed!  Take 
a  look  through  the  window  and  see  what  you  make 
of  that  dust-cloud  there  to  the  south.  They  '11  be 
here  in  five  minutes." 

Acklin  was  dumbfounded.  Morrow  was  equally 
crestfallen. 

"You  went  out  along  with  your  dam,"  Kent 
chirped.  "You  '11  learn  that  when  the  votes  are 
counted  to-night.  You  won't  forget  this  election  day 
in  some  time."  * 

The  Big  Boss  could  have  throttled  the  little  man. 

"If  you  want  me  to  take  Bodine  into  custody  on 
your  say-so  for  blowin '  up  the  dam, ' '  said  Land, ' '  I  '11 
do  it.  With  the  boy  here  accounted  for,  they  ain't  no 
lives  lost  as  far  as  I  know.  The  Doc  says  Esteban 
won't  die." 

Acklin  made  no  effort  to  answer  the  sheriff. 

"I  guess  he  won't  be  anxious  about  that,"  Bodine 
said  in  unctuous  tones.  "He  '11  be  a  trifle  coy  about 
puttin'  me  in  front  of  a  jury.  I  know  too  much." 

Some  one  laughed  at  the  baffled  look  on  Acklin 's 
face.  Kent  smiled  openly.  The  Big  Boss  ground  his 
teeth. 

"You  fools  don't  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  cried,  "that 
you  're  going  to  let  this  man  wipe  you  out  of  house 


WHISPERING  SAGE  289 

and  home,  and  then  turn  around  and  thank  him  for 
doing  it?" 

1 '  Why  not  ? "  Romero 's  father  exclaimed.  ' '  We  got 
water  now!" 

"But  we  're  law-abidin ', "  Tuscarora  insisted.  "You 
go  ahead  and  prosecute  the  man  that  blew  up  your 
little  old  dam.  We  '11  be  tickled  to  death.  We  '11 
prove  to  you  while  you  're  doin'  that  that  you  broke 
a  few  laws  yourself." 

The  dust-cloud  the  sheriff  had  noticed  had  devel- 
oped rapidly.  The  men  who  had  made  it  were  riding 
into  the  yard.  Their  coming  did  not  lessen  the  cat- 
tle-man's discomfiture.  He  started  for  the  door, 
beckoning  his  men  to  follow  him. 

"Don't  expect  any  help  froni  me,  Kildare,"  he 
said  to  Blaze.  "You  've  crossed  me  once  too  often-" 

"I  '11  get  along  all  right,  I  guess,"  Blaze  answered 
evenly.  1 l 1  shot  in  self-defense  when  I  killed  Bandy. ' ' 

Bandy?  Acklin  stopped.  He  didn't  quite  follow 
Kildare.  Bandy  meant  nothing  to  him,  but  Bodine 
and  his  men  stiffened.  Nez  Perce  felt  for  the  guns 
that  had  been  taken  away  from  him.  Buck  fingered 
his  rifle.  Kent  was  watching  him. 

"He  almost  got  me  the  first  time  I  came  to  this 
place.  Didn't  he,  Buck?"  Bodine  refused  to  an- 
swer. "I  didn't  know  who  he  was,  or  why  he  tried 
it  at  that  time." 

"Little  Bandy  Griggs,"  Blaze  went  on,  taking  the 
photograph  he  had  carried  so  long  from  his  pocket. 
"I  've  been  trailing  him  for  two  years." 


290  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Bodine's  face  had  gone  white.  Blaze  handed  the 
picture  to  Land. 

"Sheriff,  my  name  's  not  Kildare.  Kent  here  has 
known  me  for  years.  I  'm  Bob  Blaisdell  of  Wind 
Kiver,  Wyoming.  Blaze  has  always  been  short  for 
Blaisdell.  Years  ago  I  was  a  ranger  in  the  park. ' ' 

"Not  old  Timberline,  the  head  ranger?"  Buck 
cried. 

Blaze  smiled     "That  's  where  I  met  Bandy." 

Bodine's  lr_  :t  sank.  He  seemed  to  know  what  was 
coming.  His  hands  and  forehead  grew  damp.  Mer- 
cedes looked  from  one  to  the  other.  She  did  not  com- 
prehend this  situation.  Land  seemed  very  much  alive 
to  it.  Acklin  likewise  felt  the  tension  creeping  into 
the  room. 

"You  ain't  from  Laramie,  are  you?"  Land  asked. 
"The  sheriff?" 

"  No ;  that  was  my  brother ;  the  Kid !  He  was  only 
twenty-two  when  they  elected  him.  He  was  a  white 
lad,  I  '11  tell  you."  Blaze's  voice  lost  its  drawl. 
"There  wasn't  a  wrong  bone  in  his  body.  He  was 
right  all  through.  I  brought  him  up  that  way.  And 
because  he  was  square  they  went  out  to  get  him.  When 
you  've  been  father  and  mother,  and  brother  and  pal 
to  a  kid  like  that,  you  '11  know  what  it  means  to  lose 
him." 

Blaze  had  been  facing  Land.  He  turned  now  and 
stared  at  Bodine. 

' '  I  guess  you  've  heard  of  the  Mooney  gang ;  or  the 
'money'  gang  as  we  got  to  call  them.  They  were 
running  wild  in  Wyoming.  Banks,  post-offices,  trains 


WHISPERING  SAGE  291 

— they  weren't  missing  a  thing.  But  they  kept  out 
of  Laramie !  And  the  word  was  passed  that  they  were 
afraid  of  the  Kid.  Mooney  could  n  't  stand  that !  On 
the  eleventh  of  November,  two  years  ago,  he  and  his 
gang  stole  up  to  the  restaurant  where  the  boy  and  two 
of  his  men  were  eating  their  supper,  and  murdered 
them;  shot  them  in  the  back.  They  didn't  have  a 
chance.  That  's  right,  ain't  it,  Mooney?" 

" What? "Land  cried. 

"You  heard  me!"  Blaze  whipped  out.  "He  's  the 
man !  Bodine  is  an  alias.  His  entire  gang  is  in  this 
room  right  now.  The  law  forgot  or  got  sick  and  gave 
up;  but  I  didn't!  The  Kid  died  in  my  arms,  and  I 
promised  him  I  'd  get  Mooney  if  it  took  me  the  rest 
of  my  life." 

Buck  moved  a  step.    Land's  gun  cut  down. 

"I  '11  bust  you  if  you  try  it,"  the  sheriff  droned. 

"That  's  right.  I  don't  want  to  lose  you,  Buck," 
Blaze  echoed.  "I  've  followed  you  too  long.  You  got 
the  Kid!" 

The  excitement  of  the  present  moment  dwarfed 
anything  that  had  gone  before.  Land  saw  that  he  had 
been  helped  to  fame  beyond  his  wildest  dreams. 

"Why,  they  're  wanted  for  a  dozen  mail  and  train 
robberies,"  he  cried.  "If  you  boys  will  give  me  a 
hand  we  '11  put  the  bracelets  on  them. ' ' 

He  turned  to  his  men,  and  as  he  did  so  Bodine  made 
a  flying  leap  for  the  window.  Blaze  caught  him 
around  the  waist  and  they  went  down  with  a  thud. 
Land  was  over  them  in  a  second,  and  manacled  Buck's 
wrists.  The  sheriff  got  to  his  feet  casually. 


292  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Now,  I  don't  want  any  more  trouble,"  he  began. 
"We  've  had  enough  of  that.  You  boys  line  up." 

In  a  few  seconds  the  sheriff  and  his  men  had  the 
gang  in  irons  and  standing  beside  Buck,  whose  eyes 
were  molten  with  hatred  and  baffled  rage. 

The  feeling  of  the  iron  manacles  on  his  wrists  in- 
furiated the  big  fellow.  He  had  roamed  the  moun- 
tains and  desert  for  five  years  without  coming  to  grief. 
He  knew  what  he  was  going  back  to  face.  He  caught 
sight  of  Acklin,  who  was  silently  enjoying  the  pro- 
ceedings. It  brought  a  curse  to  his  lips.  "Say, 
Land,"  he  cried,  "before  they  get  me  out  of  this 
State  I  want  you  to  get  the  right  of  this  water  fight. 
I  tricked  it!  Acklin  was  in  with  me.  His  foreman 
was  there.  Timberline  knows  the  facts,  too.  The 
whole  idea  was  to  establish  in  the  courts  that  the  water 
that  came  down  from  the  Santa  Rosas  did  not  flow  into 
the  river.  I  showed  Acklin  how  to  do  it  by  turning 
it  into  the  Webster  and  on  into  the  sink.  But  he  was 
too  good  a  crook  for  me.  He  wanted  it  all !  I  thought 
he  was  just  hoggin'  it.  But  I  was  wrong.  He  knew 
if  he  got  the  water  he  could  drive  these  Basques  out 
of  the  valley.  That  's  what  he  wanted.  He  was 
afraid  of  Brand  and  what  he  's  been  preachin'.  He  11 
try  to  rebuild  his  dam." 

"No,"  Kent  said,  "I  don't  think  he  11  try  that." 

'  *  Suit  yourself  about  that, ' '  Bodine  snarled.  '  *  Say, 
Blaisdell,  how  'd  yuh  ever  get  me?" 

"The  Kid  recognized  Bandy's  picture  before  he 
died.  I  used  to  see  Bandy  often,  up  in  the  park  or  at 
the  Hole.  I  knew  if  I  found  him,  I  'd  be  pretty  close 


WHISPERING  SAGE  293 

to  finding  you.  I  Ve  been  sure  of  him  for  days,  but 
I  wanted  to  get  the  bunch. " 

Buck  showed  his  teeth  in  a  nasty  grin. 

"Where  'd  you  ever  get  Bandy's  picture ?" 

"The  one  they  took  when  he  was  sent  up  from 
Cheyenne  seven  or  eight  years  ago." 

Buck  shook  his  head.  What  a  freak  of  fortune! 
He  had  been  the  brains  of  the  gang,  but,  aside  from 
the  shooting  of  the  Kid,  had  never  participated  in 
the  actual  crimes  they  had  committed.  No  marshal 
or  sheriff  in  the  West  had  ever  met  Mooney  face  to 
face  to  know  him  until  this  day. 

The  crowd  drew  back  as  the  prisoners  filed  out, 
the  wily  Buck  at  their  head,  and  then  followed 
them. 

Blaze  turned  to  Mercedes.  She  caught  his  hand. 
Kent  had  told  her  about  Esteban. 

"Why  do  you  do  so  much  for  me?"  she  asked 
brokenly. 

Blaze  felt  a  lump  come  into  his  throat  as  he  saw 
how  white  and  tired  she  was.  His  fingers  closed  over 
hers. 

"Why?"  he  smiled.  "Because — because — why,  I 
do  little  enough." 

Land  came  to  the  door.  "I  '11  have  to  take  you 
along,  too,"  he  announced.  "The  coroner  won't  get 
up  before  evenin'." 

Blaze  nodded. 

"I  11  be  right  out,"  he  answered.  He  felt  Mer- 
cedes tugging  at  his  arm.  Her  face  was  even  whiter, 
if  that  could  be. 


294  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"But  you  did  not  kill  that  man!  It  was  my  gun. 
I  shot  him.  Why  you  do  this  thing  to  save  me?" 

Blaze  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  He  saw  that  she 
meant  what  she  said. 

"No,  no!*'  he  hastily  assured  her.  "I  got  Bandy. 
You  shot,  but  your  marksmanship  was  terrible."  He 
tried  to  smile.  "Look  at  that  hole  in  the  wall!  We 
fired  together." 

Mercedes's  eyes  widened.  What  Blaze  said  was 
almost  impossible  for  her  to  believe. 

"But  jail,"  she  insisted.  "They  're  going  to  put 
you  in  jail." 

Land  came  back  in  time  to  overhear  her  words. 
He  coughed  discreetly  before  entering. 

"Don't  worry  about  jail,  little  girl,"  he  grinned. 
"We  ain't  goin'  to  commit  a  man  for  shootin'  ii> 
self-defense.  Looks  to  me  as  if  happiness  was  comin" 
back  to  Paradise  Valley.  Bodine — or  Mooney — made 
most  of  the  trouble." 

They  rode  away  then,  and  Mercedes  stood  at  the 
window  watching  them  until  they  were  only  bobbing 
specks  on  the  horizon.  Kent  found  her  there,  softly 
crying.  He  sensed  her  interest  in  those  bobbing 
specks  and  unconsciously  began  watching  them,  too. 
A  turn  in  the  road,  and  they  disappeared.  He  felt 
the  girl  wince  but  did  not  catch  the  softly  muttered 
"Madre  de  Dios,  don't  let  him  go  away;  I  love  him." 


CHAPTER  XXXY 

THREE  days  later  Blaze  sat  in  front  of  the  Eldo- 
rado Hotel  in  "Winnenmcca.  The  little  town, 
after  the  fashion  of  its  big  brothers,  had  settled  down 
to  its  routine  existence.  The  flood  and  the  election 
had  already  held  the  stage  overly  long.  Bodine  and 
his  gang  were  on  their  way  to  Laramie,  Brand  had 
been  elected  by  the  narrowest  of  margins,  Esteban 
had  been  removed  to  the  Rancho,  the  true  story  of 
the  fallen  Buck's  reprisals  and  of  Jose's  death  were 
universally  known :  these  were  facts  now,  and  accepted 
as  such. 

Blaze  had  been  cheered  for  a  day  and  forgotten. 
Certainly  he  preferred  it.  In  more  ways  than  one, 
Brand  was  like  him.  The  attorney  had  preached  an 
idea.  The  votes  had  not  been  for  him,  but  for  what 
he  had  promised.  The  big  ranches  must  go ! 

He  came  down  Bridge  Street  as  Blaze  waited  for 
the  Paradise  stage,  walking  with  a  seemingly  careless 
shuffle,  the  inevitable  cigarette  in  his  mouth.  He 
smiled  as  Blaze  nodded.  They  had  not  spoken  half 
a  dozen  words  to  each  other,  and  yet  in  their  smile 
flashed  complete  understanding.  It  is  the  way  of 
the  true  desert  breed.  Thanks  to  him,  Blaze  had  been 
released  without  the  semblance  of  a  trial. 

One  could  not  have  failed  to  remark  the  difference 
between  the  man  who  lounged  in  the  shade  of  the 

295 


296  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Eldorado  and  the  Blaze  Kildare  who  had  ridden  the 
ranges  for  the  Double  A.  Kildare  had  been  ever 
buoyant,  half-smiling,  but  the  man  who  waited  for 
the  stage  was  a  forlorn  figure,  sad  of  eye. 

Blaze  knew  he  had  come  to  the  time  when  he  must 
say  good-by  to  Nevada :  a  day  or  two  at  the  most,  and 
he  would  be  going  back  to  Wyoming.  His  Wind 
River  ranch  claimed  him  for  a  dozen  different  tasks. 
Then,  too,  he  would  be  needed  at  Bodine's  trial. 
Wyoming  was  home,  and  yet  Nevada  had  never 
seemed  so  fair  as  on  this  glorious  morning.  Winne- 
mucca  Mountain,  a  towering,  clean-limbed  giant  in  the 
clearness  of  early  day,  seemed  to  march  into  the  very 
outskirts  of  the  town.  Blaze  could  see  the  patch  of 
green  which  marked  the  China  Gardens.  South  of 
him  the  Harmony  Range,  all  blues  and  purples  now, 
tantalized  him.  It  made  him  think  of  the  Tetons  and 
the  Gros  Ventres  back  home.  But  there  was  wine  in 
the  air  here  such  as  even  Wyoming  did  not  know. 

Blaze  sighed  disconsolately.  Well  enough  he  knew 
the  air  was  sweeter  because  of  one  who  breathed  it. 
He  was  going  up  to  Paradise  to  say  good-by  to  her. 
He  dreaded  the  trip  in  some  ways,  because  it  was  so 
palpably  a  good-by  trip.  Pretty  speeches  were  not 
intended  for  his  tongue.  So  lost  in  reverie  was  he 
that  he  paid  no  attention  to  the  man  who  took  the 
chair  next  to  him.  Imagine  his  surprise  when  he 
heard  him  say: 

1  'You  ain't  exactly  what  you  'd  call  a  social  fa- 
vorite to-day,  are  ynh?M 

" Melody!    Why,  you  old  son-of -a-gun ! "    Blaze's 


WHISPERING  SAGE  297 

face  broke  into  a  smile.  "Where  you  been?"  he 
asked. 

"I  been  representin ',  I  '11  tell  yuh!"  Both  were 
happier  over  seeing  each  other  than  either  would  have 
admitted.  "I  been  all  over  Nevada  since  I  saw  you." 
He  laughed  to  himself.  "Guess  I  was  'bout  the  only 
one  that  didn't  hear  the  fire-bell  the  other  night. 
You  were  right  up  'mong  the  flames,  were  n  't  yuh  ? ' ' 

"It  was  tolerably  warm,  all  right.  Go  on  tell  me 
'bout  yourself." 

' '  I  been  workin '  down  to  the  Bancho,  helpin '  Kent. 
We  got  the  ditches  all  fixed  up.  Beginnin'  to  look 
like  itself  again,  except  for  the  house.  It  '11  take  a 
lot  of  money  for  that  work,  but  I  guess  Esteban  won't 
have  no  trouble  borrowin'  all  he  wants.  Banks  seems 
to  think  pretty  well  of  a  Basque's  word.  Ain't  no 
reason  why  Esteban  shouldn't  get  one  crop  of  alfalfa 
before  snow  flies.  That  '11  help  get  him  over  the 
winter. ' ' 

"You  're  not  telling  me  what  I  want  to  know," 
said  Blaze.  "How  is  she?" 

Melody  had  never  caught  quite  that  note  in  his 
friend 's  voice.  He  looked  at  him  sharply.  ' '  She  don 't 
talk  much,"  he  murmured.  "She  just  looks  as  if  she 
was  waitin',  an'  waitin'.  God!  wimmen  are  beyond 
me.  Kent  's  seen  Acklin.  They  had  a  big  pow- 
wow when  it  got  noised  around  that  Bodine  had  killed 
our  yearlin's  and  burnt  the  wool-house  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.  The  Big  Boss  is  willin'  to  rebuild  the  dam 
and  let  the  Basques  own  their  part  of  it.  He  's  seen 
the  handwritin'  on  the  wall.  Storin'  up  the  snow 


298  WHISPERING  SAGE 

water  in  the  spring  will  give  everybody  all  they 
want." 

"I  guess  that  's  why  Brand  was  smiling  this  morn- 
ing/' Blaze  answered. 

The  stage  rolled  up  to  the  sidewalk  and  Blaze  got 
to  his  feet. 

" Where  you  goin'?"  asked  Melody. 

"To  say  good-by." 

"I  reckoned  you  would."  The  red-haired  one 
paused.  Nothing  but  the  hope  of  seeing  Blaze  had 
brought  him  to  town,  but  he  would  have  denied  it 
most  profanely  had  he  been  accused  of  it.  "I  may 
not  see  you  no  more,"  he  went  on.  "I  'm  goin'  to 
Kelly  Creek  to-night.  I  stopped  in  Paradise  on  the 
way  down.  Your  horse  is  all  right.  I  put  that  long 
rope  of  mine  on  your  saddle.  Thought  you  might 
like  it" 

Blaze  climbed  to  his  seat  in  the  stage  to  hide  his 
embarrassment.  He  knew  the  reata  Melody  referred 
to ;  his  favorite  for  many  years,  a  finely  woven  Mex- 
ican. He  wanted  to  thank  him,  but  he  did  not  know 
how  to  express  his  gratitude.  He  put  his  head  through 
the  open  window  and  said  banteringly,  "I  '11  buy  you 
a  drink  for  that  if  you  're  here  when  I  get  back." 

Melody  knew,  as  well  as  a  man  can  know  a  thing, 
that  Blaze  was  really  telling  him  he  appreciated  the 
rope,  and  that  he  would  repay  him  some  day  without 
counting  the  cost  to  himself,  either. 

"Come  easy,  go  easy,"  he  flung  back  at  his  friend. 
"Don't  you  go  spending  all  your  wages  for  liquor. 
Costs  a  lot  of  money  to  ride  the  trains  these  days." 


WHISPERING  SAGE  299 

The  stage  started  then.  Melody  did  not  doubt  for 
a  moment  that  this  was  good-by.  Blaze  waved  his 
hand  to  him. 

''Well,  don't  get  hurt,"  the  freckle-faced  man 
called  to  him.  It  was  a  stupid  remark,  but  it  served 
to  erase  the  emotion  from  his  face. 

Late  afternoon  found  Blaze  on  the  well-known  trail 
to  the  Rancho.  Three  days  are  almost  too  short  a 
time  for  even  nature  to  work  her  miracles,  but  even 
so  the  precious  water  was  giving  full  promise  of  the 
days  to  come. 

Henaro,  Mariano,  and  Teresa,  and  one  or  two  of 
the  old  hands  had  come  back  to  work.  The  flood- 
torn  debris  was  being  removed.  There  was  hopeful- 
ness and  courage  in  the  air.  Blaze  saw  that  the 
patio  which  had  been  Jose's  pride  had  received 
marked  attention.  This  last  was  Mercedes's  doing; 
her  first  relaxation  in  weeks.  She  rested  now  on  the 
steps  where  Acklin  had  given  her  the  forgotten 
vanity-case.  Blaze  was  almost  beside  her  before  she 
became  « aware  of  him. 

"Senor!"  It  was  a  cry  of  gladness,  accompanied 
by  a  look  that  left  Blaze  all  a-tremble.  Her  face  no 
longer  held  the  pallor  he  had  become  accustomed  to 
seeing. 

"You  didn't  think  I  would  go  without  coming  to 
say  good-by?" 

Mercedes  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  know  you  come.  The  Rancho 
begins  to  look  like  old  times,  eh?  You  hear  that  the 
Senor  Acklin  offer  us  part  of  the  dam?" 


300  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"Yes;  Melody  told  me.  It 's  wonderful!  You  Ve 
•won  your  fight.  Has  Kent  gone  home?" 

"No,  Senor.  He  is  upstairs  with  Esteban.  My 
brother  be  glad  to  see  you." 

They  turned  at  the  sound  of  pattering  feet.  Basilio 
had  heard  his  big  friend's  voice.  Blaze  caught  hold 
of  him. 

"You  come  back  to  stay,  Senor  Blaze?"  the  child 
questioned. 

"No,  no,  little  chief.  I  Ve  got  to  go  home,  to 
[Wyoming.  I  came  to  say  good-by." 

Basilio  crept  closer  to  him. 

"I  'm  going  to  miss  you,  old-timer,"  Blaze  added 
unevenly. 

"Why  you  go  away  then?    I  want  you  to  stay." 

Blaze  smiled.  My  Man  had  edged  his  way  to  his 
master's  side. 

"You  're  going  to  be  real  lonesome  for  me,  little 
chief?" 

The  child  nodded  his  head. 

He  lifted  Basilio  so  the  little  fellow  could  pet  the 
horse's  cold  muzzle. 

"He  '11  sort  of  make  up  for  the  loss  of  me,  won't 
he?" 

"You  're  going  to  give  him  to  me,  Mr.  Blaze?" 

"He  's  yours,  little  chief.  I  '11  leave  him  in  Para- 
dise. You  be  good  to  him." 

He  lifted  Basilio  to  My  Man's  back.  When  he 
turned  to  Mercedes,  she  was  looking  away.  She  knew 
the  sacrifice  he  made  in  parting  with  My  Man. 

A  few  steps  about  the  patio  on  the  horse's  back, 


WHISPERING  SAGE  301 

and  Mercedes  bade  Basilic  tell  Terese  that  the  Sefior 
would  stay  for  supper.  When  they  were  alone,  Mer- 
cedes searched  the  eyes  of  the  man  who  sat  beside  her. 
What  a  lot  he  had  dared  for  her!  Didn't  he  know 
that  she  loved  him?  Why  didn't  he  speak? 

Mercedes  failed  to  realize  that  her  very  nearness 
rendered  Blaze  almost  speechless. 

"I  hate  to  leave,"  he  muttered  at  last,  "and  right 
along  I  Ve  been  telling  myself  I  'd  be  mighty  well 
pleased  to  get  home  if  Mooney  went  back,  too.  Did 
you  ever  get  mistaken  about  yourself  like  that?" 

Mercedes  did  not  answer  lest  her  voice  should  be- 
tray her. 

' '  I  'm  awfully  blue, ' '  Blaze  went  on.  ' '  In  spite  of 
all  the  trouble  and  the  fighting,  I  've  been  happier 
here  than  ever  before  in  my  life.  I  Ve  been  trailing 
Mooney  for  two  years.  I  've  kept  my  word  with  the 
Kid.  When  their  trial  's  over,  I  '11  be  through.  I  '11 
go  back  to  my  ranch.  But  no  matter;  I  'm  going  to 
be  homesick  for  Paradise  Valley  and  you." 

"Homesick  for  me?"  Mercedes  queried  in  broken 
tones. 

Blaze  looked  away,  but  he  nodded  his  head. 

"Yes,  Mercedes.     I  'm  going  to  miss  you." 

My  Man  whinnied  as  Blaze  stopped. 

"I  'm  going  to  miss  him,  too.  And  he  '11  miss  me. 
I  want  you  to  ride  him  once  in  a  while,  Mercedes." 

"I  '11  be  very  good  to  him,"  she  whispered  in 
hushed  tones.  "I  '11  keep  him  until  you  come  back, 
Sefior  Blaze."  She  stopped  short  and  got  up.  "You 
will  be — coming  back,  eh,  Senor?" 


302  WHISPERING  SAGE 

Blaze  caught  the  note  of  fear,  of  concern,  in  her 
question;  but  he  failed  to  take  advantage  of  it.  In- 
stead he  murmured  unhappily :  "  I  '11  be  coming  back 
some  day,  but  when,  quien  sabef" 

This  was  not  at  all  what  he  wanted  to  say,  nor  was 
it  entirely  the  truth.  He  had  a  very  definite  idea  of 
when  he  would  be  coming  back.  He  wanted  to  tell 
her  so ;  to  ask  her  to  care  for  him,  and  to  wait  until 
he  came  back.  To  his  credit,  he  was  not  well  experi- 
enced in  the  ways  of  love.  The  modesty  of  the  man 
was  his  best  virtue.  So  he  pretended  not  to  under- 
stand, to  be  surprised;  when  it  was  only  because  he 
could  not  believe  that  happiness,  such  as  having  her 
meant,  was  to  be  his.  Mercedes  was  so  close,  so 
lovely.  She  seemed  so  well  poised,  so  at  ease,  that 
his  own  confusion  was  only  magnified  by  comparison. 
His  habitual  and  often  tested  composure  had  deserted 
him  in  his  hour  of  need.  Blaze  was  truly  miserable, 
and  in  an  evident  attempt  to  stem  his  own  feelings, 
he  resorted  to  the  bantering  tone  that  had  served  him 
so  well  in  his  man-world. 

* '  And  what  will  I  find  when  I  do  come  back  ? ' '  He 
tried  to  laugh  good-naturedly.  Mercedes  bowed  her 
head.  Blaze  put  a  hand  on  each  of  her  shoulders. 
"I  11  ask  Kent,  or  somebody,  how  Mercedes  is,  and 
they  '11  say,  '  Humph !  She  's  a  big  lady  now.  She  's 
got  a  new  name ! '  Maybe  it  will  be  Ugarde,  or  Rod- 
riguez, or  Liotard !  Yes,  sir !  That 's  what  they  '11 
say.  I  '11  look  at  my  old  gray  hair — how  time  flies ! 
But  I  '11  find  you.  And  there  you  '11  be :  a  great  lady 
with  three  or  four  black-haired  kiddies  of  your  own!" 


WHISPERING  SAGE  303 

Mercedes  shook  her  head.  Her  eyes  were  misty, 
but  she  smiled. 

"No!"  she  murmured.  "I  don't  think  so;  not 
those  kids." 

This  was  the  Mercedes  of  old. 

"Yes,  you  will!"  Blaze  grinned.  "The  right  man 
will  come  along,  querida.  You  look  sharp  so  that  he 
don't  get  by." 

"Huh!"  she  muttered.  "I  look  sharp,  all  right. 
But  he  don't." 

"He?" 

"Sil  That  right  man!  He  's  so  blind  like  a  bat. 
But  maybe  he  don 't  want  to  see  Basque  girl.  Still,  if 
he  comes  back — with  his  gray  hairs — I  '11  be  here. 
Arrascada!  That  's  a  good  name.  I  '11  keep  it." 
She  forced  a  tantalizing  smile  to  her  face  as  she  went 
on:  "You  won't  have  to  waste  no  time  then  when  you 
come." 

Once  before,  in  that  very  patio,  they  had  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes  as  they  did  now.  Blaze  saw 
there  what  he  should  have  seen  long  ago. 

"Oh,  querida  mia,"  he  breathed. 

Whatever  else  he  intended  to  say  was  smothered 
in  Mercedes's  hair.  He  caught  her  up  in  his  arms 
and  held  her  to  him.  There  was  color  in  her  face 
again ;  her  lips  red  for  his  kisses. 

"I  '11  be  coming  back,"  she  heard  him  say. 

From  a  distance,  it  seemed,  came  her  low,  wild,  tom- 
boy laugh.  He  was  wafted  in  spirit  again  to  that 
unforgettable  day  on  the  river.  She  was  speaking, 
and  even  her  voice  was  reminiscent  of  that  aftermoom. 


304  WHISPERING  SAGE 

"I  guess  maybe, "  she  managed  to  say,  with  a  de- 
fiant little  toss  of  her  head,  "Mercedes  will  have  those 
three,  four  black-haired  kids  anyhow,  huh?" 

Minutes  passed  as  they  sat  there  without  speaking. 
The  shadows  began  their  evening  tryst.  Peace  and 
happiness  settled  down  upon  the  patio. 

In  a  room  above,  some  one  lighted  a  lamp.  Its 
mellow  glow  reached  the  man  and  girl  on  the  steps. 
His  arm  held  her  closer  for  a  second  and  then  relaxed. 
Mercedes  laughed  liquidly.  From  its  accustomed 
place  she  caught  up  her  guitar  and  crooned  a  plaintive 
little  Spanish  love-song  in  a  voice  for  Blaze's  ears 
alone : 

If  stars  in  the  sky  far  above  you 
Have  brought  you,  beloved,  to  me, 
If,  in  their  wisdom,  they  Ve  chosen  you, 
How,  then,  can  I  help  loving  thee? 
How,  then,  can  I  help  loving  thee? 

"La-la-la-la-la,  la,  la-la-la, "  throbbed  the  guitar. 
Blaze  closed  his  eyes.  This  was  the  end  of  the  trail ! 
Life  began  anew  here. 

A  tear  stole  down  Mercedes's  cheek.  Happiness  had 
overwhelmed  her.  The  morrow  no  longer  threatened. 
She  was  ready  for  the  dawn. 


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'THE   BEST   OF   RECENT   FICTION 

Harbor  Road,  The.    Sara  Ware  Bassett. 

Harriet  and  the  Piper.    Kathleen  Norris. 

Havoc.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Head  of  the  House  of  Coombe,  The.      Frances    Hodgson 

Burnett. 

Heart  of  the  Desert,  The.    Honore  Willsie. 
Heart  of  the  Hills,  The.    John  Fox,  Jr. 
Heart  of  the  Range,  The.    William  Patterson  White. 
Heart  of  the  Sunset.     Rex  Beach. 
Heart  of  Unaga,  The.     Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Helen  of  the  Old  House.     Harold  Bell  Wright. 
Hidden  Places,  The,    Bertrand  W.  Sinclair. 
Hidden  Trails.     William  Patterson  White. 
Hillman,  The.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Hira  Singh.     Talbot  Mundy. 
His  Last  Bow.    A.  Conan  Doyle. 
His  Official  Fiancee.    Berta  Ruck. 
Homeland,    "Margaret   Hill  McCarter. 
Homestead  Ranch,     Elizabeth  G.  Young. 
Honor  of  the  Big  Snows.    James  Oliver  Curwood. 
Hopalong  Cassidy.    Clarence  E.  Mulford. 
Hound  from  the  North,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 
House  of  the  Whispering  Pines,  The.  Anna  Katharine  Green* 
Humoresque.    'Fannie  Hurst. 
Illustrious  Prince,  The.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
In  Another  Girl's  Shoes.    Berta  Ruck. 
Indifference  of  Juliet,  The.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 
Infelice.     Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 
Initials  Only.    Anna  Katharine  Green. 
Innocent.    Marie  Corelli. 

Innocent  Adventuress,  The.    Mary  Hastings  Bradley. 
Insidious  Dr.  Fu-Manchu,  The.     Sax  Rohmer. 
In  the  Brooding  Wild.    Ridgwell  Cullum, 
In  the  Onyx  Lobby.    Carolyn  Wells. 
Iron  Trail,  The.    Rex  Beach. 
Iron  Woman,  The.    Margaret  Deland. 
IshmaeL    (111.)     Mrs.  Southworth. 
Isle  of  Retribution.     Edison  Marshall. 
I've  Married  Marjorie.     Margaret  Widdemer. 
Ivory  Trail,  The.    Talbot  Mundy. 
Jacob's  Ladder.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Jean  of  the  Lazy  A.    B.  M.  Bower. 
Jeanne  of  the  Marshes.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Jeeves.     P.  G.  Wodehouse. 


AT     'A      POPULAR      PRICE 

Jimmie  Dale  and  the  Phantom  Clew.    Frank  L.  Packard. 

Johnny  Nelson.    Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Joseph  Greer  and  His  Daughter.     Henry  Kitchell  Webster. 

Judith  of  the  Godless  Valley.  Honore  Willsie. 

Keeper  of  the-  Door,  The.    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Keith   of  the  Border.     Randall  Parrish. 

Kent  Knowles:  Quahaug.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Kilmeny  of  the  Orchard.     L.  M.  Montgomery. 

Kingdom  of  the  Blind,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheira, 

King  of  Kearsarge.    Arthur  O.  Friel. 

King  of  the  Khyber  Rifles.     Talbot  Mundy. 

King  Spruce.    Holman  Day. 

Knave  of  Diamonds,  The.    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Land-Girl's  Love  Story,  A.    Berta  Ruck. 

Land  of  Strong  Men,  The.    A.  M.  Chisholm. 

Laramie  Holds  the  Range.    Frank  H.  Spearman. 

Last  Trail,  The.    Zane   Grey. 

Laughing  Bill  Hyde.     Rex  Beach. 

Laughing  Girl,  The.     Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Law  Breakers^  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Law  of  the  Gun,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Leavenworth  Case,  The.    Anna  Katherine  Green.  (Photoplay 

Edition). 

Light  That  Failed,  The.     Rudyard  Kipling.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 
Lighted  Way,  The.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lin  McLean.    Owen  Wister. 
Lister's  Great  Adventure.     Harold  Bindloss. 
Little   Moment  of    Happiness,    The.      Clarence     Budington 

Kelland. 

Little  Red  Foot,  The.    Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Little  Warrior,  The.    Pelham  Grenville  Wodehouse. 
Lonely  Warrior,  The.     Claude  C.  Washburn. 
Lonesome  Land.    B.  M.  Bower. 
Lone  Wolf,  The.    Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
iXMig  Live  the  King.     Mary  Roberts  Rinehart.   (Photoplay 

Edition). 

Lost  Ambassador.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lost  Discovery,  The.    Baillie  Reynolds. 
Lost  Prince,  The.    Frances  Hodgson  Burnett. 
Lost  World,  The.     A.  Conan  Doyle. 
Luck  of  the  Kid,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Lucretia  Lombard,  Kathleen  Norris. 
Luminous  Face,  The.    Carolyn  Wells. 
Lydia  of  the  Pines.    Honore  Willsie. 


THE   BEST  OF   RECENT   FICTION 

Lynch  Lawyers.    William  Patterson  White. 

McCarty  Incog.     Isabel  Ostrander. 

Major,  The,     Ralph  Connor. 

Maker  of  History,  A.    E.  Phillips  Op<penheim. 

Malefactor,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Man  and  Maid.    Elinor  Glyn. 

Man  from  Bar  20,  The.    'Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Man  from  the  Bitter  Roots,  The.    Caroline  Lockhart 

Man  in  the  Moonlight,  The.    Rupert  S.  Holland. 

Man  in  the  Twilight,  The.     Ridgwell   Cullum. 

Man  Killers,  The.     Dane  Coolidge. 

Man  Who  Couldn't  Sleep,  The.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Man's  Country.     Peter  Clark  Macfarlane. 

Marqueray's  Duel.     Anthony  Pryde. 

Martin  Conisby's  Vengeance.    Jeffery  Farnol. 

Mary-Gusta.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mary  Wollaston.     Henry  Kitchell  Webster. 

Mason  of  Bar  X  Ranch.    H.  Bennett. 

Master  of  Man.    Hall  Caine. 

Master  Mummer,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Memoirs  of  Sherlock  Holmes.    A  Conan  Doyle. 

Men  Who  Wrought,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Meredith  Mystery,  The.     Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Midnight  of  the  Ranges.     George  Gilbert. 

Mine  with  the  Iron  Door,  The.     Harold  Bell  Wright 

Mischief  Maker,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Missioner,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Miss  Million's  Maid.     Berta  Ruck. 

Money,  Love  and  Kate.     Eleanor  H.  Porter. 

Money  Master,  The.     Gilbert  Parker. 

Money  Moon,  The.     Jeffery  Farnol. 

Moonlit  Way,  The.     Robert  W.  Chambers. 

More  Limehouse  Nights.    Thomas  Burke. 

More  Tish.     Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Moreton  Mystery,  The.     Elizabeth  Dejeans. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sen.     Louise  Jordan  Miln. 

Mr.  Grex  of  Monte  Carlo.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Mr.  Pratt.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mr.  PratVs  Patients.    Joseph  C  Lincoln. 

Mrs.  Red  Pepper.     Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Mr.  Wu.    Louise  Jordan  Miln. 

My  Lady  of  the  North.    Randall  Parrish. 

My  Lady  of  the  South.    Randall  Parish. 

Mystery  Girl.  The.     Carolyn  Wells. 


AT     #      POPULAR      PRI'CE 

Mystery  of  the  Hasty  Arrow,  The.     Anna  K.  Green. 

Mystery  of  the  Silver  Dagger,  The.    Randall  Parrish. 

Nameless  River.    Vingie  E.  Roe. 

Ne'er-Do-Well,  The.    Rex  Beach.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Net,  The.     Rex  Beach. 

Never  Fail  Blake.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Next  Corner,  The.     Kate  Jordan. 

Nightfall     Anthony  Pryde. 

Night  Horseman,  The.    Max  Brand. 

Night  of  the  Wedding,  The.     C.  N.  and  A.  M.  Williamson. 

Night  Operator,  The.    Frank  L.  Packard. 

Night  Riders,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Nine  Unknown,  The.     Talbot  Mundy. 

Nobody's  Man.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

No  Defence.     Gilbert  Parker. 

North.    James  B.  Hendryx. 

Obstacle  Race,  The.    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Odds.    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Old  Misery.    Hugh  Pendexter. 

Omoo.     Herman  Melville. 

One  Thing  Is  Certain.    Sophie  Kerr. 

One- Way  Trail,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Ordeal  of  Honor,  An.    Anthony  Pryde. 

Outlaw,  The.    Jackson  Gregory. 

Owner  of  the  Lazy  D.    William  Patterson  White. 

Panelled  Room,  The.     Rupert  Sargent  Holland. 

Paradise  Bend.    William  Patterson  White. 

Pardners.    Rex  Beach. 

Partners  of  the  Tide.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Patricia  Brent,  Spinster.     Anonymous. 

Patrol  of  the  Sun  Dance  Trail,  The.    Ralph  Conner, 

Paul  Anthony,  Christian.    Hiram  W.  Hayes. 

Pawned.    Frank  L.  Packard. 

Pawns  Count,  The.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Pay  Gravel.    Hugh  Pendexter. 

Peacemakers,  The.     Hiram  W.  Hayes. 

Peregrine's  Progress.     Jeffery  Farnoll. 

Peter  Ruff  and  the  Double  Four.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim, 

Phantom  Wires.     Arthur  Stringer. 

Pointed  Tower,  The.    Vance  Thompson. 

Pollyanna;  "The  Glad  Book."    Eleanor  H.  Porter.  (Lim.  Ed  > 

Trade  Mark — Trade-Mark. 
Poor  Man's  Rock.    Bertrand  W.  Sinclair. 
Poor  Wise  Man,  A.    Mary  Roberts  Rinehart 


'THE   BEST  OF   RECENT   FICTION 

Poisoned  Paradise,  The.  Robert  W.  Service.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Portygee,    The.    Joseph  €.  Lincoln. 

Possession.    Olive  Wadsley. 

Postmaster,  The.     Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Prairie  Child,  The.     Arthur  Stringer. 

Prairie  Flowers,     James  B.  Hendryx. 

Prairie  Mother,  The,    Arthur  Stringer. 

Prairie  Wife,  The.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Pretender,  The.    Robert  W.  Service. 

Prince  of  Sinners,  A.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Prodigal  Daughters,  The.    Joseph  Hocking.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Prodigal  Son.     Hall  Caine.     (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Profiteers,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Promise,  The.    J.  B.  Hendryx. 

Public  Square,  The.    Will  Levington  Comfort. 

Purple  Mask,  The*     Louise  Jordan  Miln. 

Purple  Pearl,  The.    Anthony  Pryde. 

Quemado.    William  West  Winter. 

Quest  of  the  Sacred  Slipper,  The.    Sax  Rohmer. 

Quill's  Window.    George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Rainbow's  End,  The.     Rex  Beach. 

Rainbow  Valley.     L.  M.  Montgomery. 

Ramshackle  House.     Hulbert  Footner. 

Ranch  at  the  Wolverine,  The.    B.  M.  Bower. 

Ranching  for  Sylvia.     Harold  Bindloss. 

Rangy  Pete.  Guy  Morton. 

Raspberry  Jam.    Carolyn  Wells. 

Reclaimers,  The.     Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Re-Creation  of  Brian  Kent,  The*     Harold  Bell  Wright 

Red  and  Black.     Grace  S.   Richmond. 

Red  Pepper  Burns,    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Red  Pepper's  Patients.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Red  Seal,  The.     Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Restless  Sex,  The.    Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Return  of  Dr.  Fu-Manchu,  The.    Sax  Rohmer. 

Return  of  Frank  Clamart,  The.     Henry  C.  Rowland. 

Return  of  Tarzan  The.     Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 

Riddle  of  the  Frozen  Flame  The,    M.  E.  and  T.  W.  Hanshew, 

Riddle  of  the  Mysterious   Light   The.     M.    E.   and   T.    W. 

Hanshew. 
Riddle  of  the   Purple  Emperor  The,       M.    E.   and   T.   W. 

Hanshew. 
Riddle   of  the   Spinning   Wheel,  The.     M.    E.   and   T.   W. 

Hanshew. 


!A  T     fA      POPULAR      PRI'CE 

Rider  of  the  Golden  Bar,  The.    William  Patterson  White. 

Rider  of  the  King  Log,  The.    Holman  Day, 

Rider  o*  the  Stars.    R.  J.  Horton. 

Riders  of  the  Silences.    John  Frederick. 

Rilla  of  Ingleside.    L.  M.  Montgomery. 

Rimrock  Trail.    J.  Allan  Dunn. 

Rise  of  Roscoe  Paine,  The.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. , 

River  Trail,  The.    Laurie  Y.  Erskine. 

Robin.    Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

Rocks  of  Valpre,  The.    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Rogues  of  the  North.    Albert  M.  Treynor. 

Romance  of  a  Million  Dollars,  The.    Elizabeth  De jeans. 

Rosa  MundL    Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Rose  of  Santa  Fe,  The.    Edwin  L.  Sabiri. 

Round  the  Corner  in  Gay  Street.    Grace  S.  Richmond,  ' 

Round-Up,  The.    Oscar  J.  Friend, 

Rung  Ho!    Talbot  Mundy. 

Rustler  of  Wind  River,  The.       G.  W.  Ogden. 

St  Elmo.  (111.    Ed.)  Augusta  J.  Evans. 

San<L    Olive  Wadsley. 

Scarlet  Iris,  The.    Vance  Thompson. 

Scattergood  Baines.     Clarence  Budington  Kelland. 

Second  Violin,  The.    Grace  S.  Richmond, 

Secret  Power,  The.    Marie  Corelli. 

Self-Raised.  (111).     Mrs.  SouthwortH. 

Settling  of  the  Sage.    Hal  G.  Evarts. 

Seven  Ages  of  Woman,  The.    Compton  Mackenzie. 

Seven  Darlings,  The.    Gouverneur  Morris. 

Seventh  Man,  The.    Max  Brand. 

Shadow  of  the  East,  The.    E.  M.  Hull.    (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Shadow  on  the  Glass,  The.    Charles  J.  Dutton. 

Shavings.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Sheik,  The.     E.  M.  Hull. 

Sheila  of  Big  Wreck  Cove.    James  H.  Cooper. 

Shepherd  of  the  Hills,  The.     Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Shepherds  of  the  Wild.     Edison  Marshall. 

Sheriff  of  Dyke  Hole,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Sherry.    George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Shoe-Bar  Stratton.    Joseph  B.  Ames. 

Sight  Unseen,  and  The  Confession,    Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Silver  Horde,  The.    Rex  Beach. 

Silver  Poppy,  The.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Singing  Bone,  The.    R.  Austin  Freeman. 

Singing  Wells,  The.    Roland  Pertwee. 


THE   BEST  OF  RECENT  FICTION 

Sinister  Mark,  The.    Lee  Thayer. 

Sin  That  Was  His,  The.     Frank  L.  Packard. 

Sir  or  Madam.     Berta  Ruck. 

Sisters-in-Law.     Gertrude  Atherton. 

Sky  Line  of  Spruce.     Edison  Marshall. 

Slayer  of  Souls,  The.    Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Smiles:  A  Rose  of  the  Cumberlands.    Eliot  H.  Robinson. 

Snowdrift.    James  B.  Hendryx. 

Snowshoe  Trail,  The.     Edison  Marshall. 

Son  of  His  Father,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Son  of  Tarzan,  The.    Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 

Souls  for  Sales.     Rupert  Hughes.     (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Speckled  Bird,  A.     Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Spirit  of  the  Border,  The.     Zane  Grey.     (New  Edition). 

Spirit-of-Iron.    Harwood  Steele. 

Spoilers,  The.     Rex  Beach.     (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Spoilers  of  the  Valley,  The.    Robert  Watson. 

Star  Dust     Fannie  Hurst. 

Steele  of  the  Royal  Mounted.    James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Step  on  the  Stair,  The.     Anna  Katherine  Green. 

Still  Jim.     Honore  Willsie. 

Story  of  Foss  River  Ranch,  The.     Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Story  of  Marco,  The.    Eleanor  H.  Porter. 

Strange  Case  of  Cavendish,  The.    Randall  Parrish. 

Strawberry  Acres.     Grace  S.  Richmond, 

Strength  of  the  Pines,  The.     Edison  Marshall. 

Subconscious  Courtship,  The.    Berta  Ruck. 

Substitute  Millionaire,  The.     Hulbert  Footner. 

Sudden  Jim.    Clarence  B.  Kelland. 

Sweethearts  Unmet.     Berta  Ruck. 

Sweet  Stranger.    Berta  Ruck. 

Tales  of  Chinatown.    Sax  Rohmer. 

Tales  of  Secret  Egypt    Sax  Rohmer. 

Tales  of  Sherlock  Holmes.    A.  Conan  Boyle. 

Talkers,  The.    Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Talisman,  The.    Sir  Walter  Scott.  (Photoplay  Ed.).  Screened 

as  Richard  the  Lion  Hearted. 
Taming  of  Zenas  Henry,  The.    Sara  Ware  Basset 
Tarzan  of  the  Apes.     Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 
Tarzan  and  the  Jewels  of  Opar.     Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 
Tattooed  Arm,  The.     Isabel  Ostrander. 
Tempting  of  Tavernake,  Theu     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Tess  of  the  D*Urbervffles.    Thomas  Hardy.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 
Tex.    Clarence  E.  Mulford. 


AT     A      POPULAR      PRICE 

Texan,  The.    James  B.  Hendryx. 

ThankfuTs  Inheritance.    Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

That  Affair  at  "The  Cedars."  Lee  Thayer. 

That  Printer  of  Udell's.     Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Their  Yesterdays.     Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Thief  of  Bagdad,  The.     Achmed  Abdullah.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Thieves'  Wit.     Hulbert?  Footner. 

Thirteenth  Commandment,  The.     Rupert  Hughes. 

This  Side  of  Paradise.     F.  Scott  Fitzgerald. 

Thoroughbred,  The,    Henry  Kitchell  Webster. 

Thread  of  Flame,  The.    Basil  King. 

Three  Black  Bags.     Marion  Polk  Angelloti. 

Three  Men  and  a  Maid.    P.  G.  Wodehouse. 

Three  Musketeers,  The.     Alexander  Dumas. 

Three  of  Hearts,  The.    Berta  Ruck. 

Through  the  Shadows  with  O.  Henry.    AI.  Jennings. 

Thunderbolt,  The.    Clyde  Perrin. 

Timber.     Harold  Titus. 

Timber  Pirate.     Charles  Christopher  Jenkins. 

Tish.    Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

To  Him  That  Hath.     Ralph  Connor. 

Toilers  of  the  Sea,  The.    Victor  Hugo.  (Photoplay  Ed.), 

Toll  of  the  Sands.     Paul  Delaney. 

Trail  of  the  Axe,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Trailin'.     Max  Brand. 

Trail  to  Yesterday,  The.    Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 

Treasure  of  Heaven,  The.    Marie  Corelli. 

Trigger  of  Conscience,  The.    Robert  Orr  Chipperfield. 

Triumph  of  John  Kars,  The.    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Triumph  of  the  Scarlet  Pimpernel,  The.    Baroness  Orczy. 

Trodden  Gold.     Howard  Vincent  O'Brien. 

Trooper  O'Neill.    George  Goodchild. 

Trouble  at  the  Pinelands,  The.     Ernest  M.  Porter. 

T.  Tembarom.     Frances  Hodgson  Burnett. 

Tumbleweeds.     Hal  G.  Evarts. 

Turn  of  the  Tide.    Eleanor  H.  Porter. 

Twenty-fourth  of  June.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Twins  of  Suffering  Creek,  The,    Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Two-Gun  Man,  The.     Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 

Two-Gun  Man,  The.     Robert  Ames  Bennet. 

Two-Gun  Sue.    Douglas  Grant. 

Typee.     Herman   Melville. 

Tyrrel  of  the  Cow  Country.    Robert  Ames  Bennet 

Under  Handicap.    Jackson  Gregory. 


THE   BEST  OF  RECENT  FICTION 

Under  the  Country  Sky.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Uneasy  Street,     Arthur  Somers  Roche. 

Unlatched  Door,  The.     Lee  Thayer. 

Unpardonable  Sin,  The.     Major  Rupert  Hughes, 

Unseen  Ear,  The.     Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Untamed,  The.    Max  Brand. 

Up  and  Coming.     Nalbro   Bartley. 

Up  From  Slavery.    Booker  T.  Washington. 

Ursula  Trent.    W.  L.  George. 

Valiants  of  Virginia,  The.    Hallie  Erminie  Rives. 

Valley  of  Content,  The.     Blanche  Upright 

Valley  of  Fear,  The.    Sir  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

Valley  of  Gold,  The.    David  Howarth. 

Valley  of  the  Sun,  The.    William  M.  McCoy. 

Vandemark's  Folly.     Herbert  Quick. 

Vanguards  of  the  Plains,.     Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Vanished  Messenger,  The.    E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Vanishing  of  Betty  Varian,  The.    Carolyn  Wells. 

Vanity  Fair.     Wm.  M.  Thackeray.   (Photoplay  Ed.). 

Vashti.    Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Viola  Gwyn.     George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Virginia  of  Elk  Creek  Valley.    Mary  Ellen  Chase. 

Virtuous  Wives.     Owen  Johnson. 

Voice  of  the  Pack,  The.    Edison  Marshall. 

Wagon  Wheel,  The.    William  Patterson  White. 

Wall  Between,  The.     Sara,  Ware  Bassett 

Wall  of  Men,  A.    Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Wasted  Generation,  The.    Owen  Johnson. 

Watchers  of  the  Plains,  The.     Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Way  of  an  Eagle,  The.     Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Way  of  the  Strong,  The.     Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Way  of  These  Women,  The.     E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

We  Can't  Have  Everything.    Major  Rupert  Hughes. 

Weavers,  The.    Gilbert  Parker. 

West  Broadway.     Nina  Wilcox  Putnam. 

West  Wind  Drift     George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

What's  the  World  Coming  To?     Rupert  Hughes. 

What  Will  People  Say?  Rupert  Hughes. 

Wheels  Within  Wheels.     Carolyn  Wells. 

Whelps  of  the  Wolf,  The.    George  Marsh. 

When  a  Man's  a  Man.    Harold  Bell  Wright.  (Photoplay  Ed.). 

When  Egypt  Went  Broke.    Holman  Day. 

Where  the  Sun  Swings  North.     Barnett  Willoughby. 

Where  There's  a  Will.    Mary  Roberts  Rinehart 


'AT     rA     POPULAR     PRI'CE 

Whispering  Sage.     Henry  Sinclair  Drago  and  Joseph  NocU 

White  Jacket.     Herman  Melville. 

White  Moll,  The.    Frank  L.  Packard. 

Why  Not.    Margaret  Widdemer. 

Window  at  the  White  Cat,  The.    Mary  Roberts  Rinehart 

Winds  of  Chance,  The.    Rex  Beach. 

Winds  of  the  World,  The.    Talbot  Mundy. 

Wine  of  Life,  The.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Winning  of  Barbara  Worth,  The.    Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Winning  the  Wilderness.    Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Wire  Devils,  The.    Frank  L.  Packard. 

Wire  Tappers,  The.    Arthur  Stringer. 

Wishing  Ring  Man,  The.    Margaret  Widdemer, 

With  Juliet  in  England.    Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Within  These  Walls.     Rupert  Hughes. 

Wolfville,    Alfred  Henry  Lewis. 

Woman  from  "Outside,"  The.    Hulbert  Footner. 

Woman  Gives,  The.    Owen  Johnson. 

Woman  Haters,  The.    Joseph  'C.  Lincoln. 

Woman  of  Knockaloe,  The.     Hall  Caine. 

Woman  Thou  Gavest  Me,  The.    Hall  Caine. 

Woodcarver  of  'Lympus,  The.    Mary  E.  Waller. 

Wooing  of  Rosamond  Fayre,  The.    Berta  Ruck. 

Wrong  Mr.  Right,  The.    Berta  Ruck. 

Year  of  Delight.    Margaret  Widdemer. 

Years  for  Rachel,  The.    Berta  Ruck. 

Yellow  Claw,  The.    Sax  Rohmer. 

Yellow  Horde,  The.     Hal  G.  Evarts. 

You're  Only  Young  Once.    Margaret  Widdemer. 

Zeppelin's  Passenger,  The,    E.  Phillips  Oppenh«im. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  S1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


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